Dannymay Shorts
by FiveRivers
Summary: Oneshots for the Dannymay event! Now playing 2020 prompts!
1. Chapter 1

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Crossing

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Danny stopped, tilted his head, and shut his eyes. He hummed thoughtfully, and nodded. "Yeah. I think this is one." He nodded again, and opened his eyes. "We can cross here." He smiled back at Sam and Tucker. It was the first time he'd smiled in a while.

"Are you sure?" asked Sam. Her voice was rough, but not from anger. She'd gotten sick a couple of days ago, and she hadn't completely recovered.

Danny ran his hand over the door of the abandoned building, as if he could feel the fabric of reality through it. "Pretty sure. It'll take me a couple minutes to figure out how we get through, but this is definitely a passage, not just a thin spot."

"Cool," said Tucker, mounting the two stairs that raised the door up off of the sidewalk, he glanced backwards. "But we should get off the street. Are there any people in there?"

Danny nodded in agreement, he didn't sense anyone inside the walls, then stopped. "I mean, no. No one's in there." He tapped a sign on the wall. "Foreclosed."

"We can't exactly read in this light," Sam said.

"Yeah, sorry." Danny checked the street one more time, and stuck his hand into the door, easily disengaging the lock. The door swung in. It was a mess on the inside, but then, Danny had learned over the past couple of months that foreclosed homes often were. He stepped inside. "I don't think this should be _too_ hard to figure out," he said. The path, the crossing, felt strong and straight. Someone had probably died here, and haunted the building long enough for the path to form.

It was actually a little odd that no one was currently in residence.

"See if you can find some mirrors," said Danny, "or a door that feels w-"

"Freeze, ecto-scum!"

Huge bright spotlights flooded the room, blinding Danny and causing the other two to gasp in pain. Danny's core flared, and he got a shield up just in time to catch a series of ectoblasts.

GIW! How had he missed them? How had the GIW known to set up a trap here? Danny hissed, and swept his hand from left from right, knocking out the lights. He immediately realized why he had been unable to sense them from outside. They were wearing thick, white, full-body hazmat. They almost looked like spacesuits.

Before his shield failed, Danny grabbed both Sam and Tucker and sunk through the floor. He did not take his ghost form. Considering how that had turned out last time... No. Best not.

The basement was barren. The GIW had become more brutal, but they had yet to reach true competence. If it had been him, he would have made it so he couldn't go through the floor. Or the ceiling. Or the walls. Heck, he would have thrown up a ghost shield along with the lights.

The basement, like many in this part of the country, where winters were cold and long, was finished. It had a bathroom. Danny made a beeline for it, ignoring, for the moment, the sounds of government-issued boots on the stairs above. Sam and Tucker barricaded the door behind them as best they could, considering that the bathroom was largely stripped, and bathrooms didn't have a huge amount of movable furniture in the first place.

Luckily, the mirror, cracked and spotty, had been left behind.

"Hope this is it," muttered Danny. He brushed dust off the mirror, hesitated, then deliberately cut his hand on one of the cracks. He laid his bleeding hand flat on the glass.

Sam and Tucker were struggling to set up a human/ghost shield projector (donated by Vlad) in another stop-gap effort to keep the GIW out. The shield wouldn't last for long. The batteries had never been very good.

"Any time now."

"I'm trying, I'm trying," said Danny. There was a thump on the door, and it almost buckled inward.

Back home in Amity Park, Danny could figure out the key to a pathway in seconds, if he didn't just _know _it. But they were a long way from Danny's haunt, and this was the first good crossing they'd been able to find since they'd left. Danny just had to hope that it didn't want them to pay some weird toll, or leave from the attic, or anything like that.

The shield projector activated, and Danny heard some startled, if muffled, yelps from the other side of the door.

"Get the bazooka!"

"Shoot," said Danny. "How long do we have?"

"Couple minutes, maybe, once they start shooting," said Tucker. "I don't know what their bazooka is like."

Danny nodded, and returned his attention to the mirror. He was so close he could almost feel it.

There was an explosion from the door. The shield flickered.

"Come on," said Danny. He dumped spectral energy into the mirror, hoping it was like Poindexter's, hoping it would be enough, that they could cross over by brute force. "_Please._"

There was another explosion, and the shield vanished. The GIW burst into the room, their wickedest guns and devices at the ready, fully prepared to do battle with the abomination they had been hunting and the traitors who had chosen it over their own species.

... But the only thing that indicated that anyone else might have been present in the room was the bloody handprint on the mirror.


	2. Chapter 2

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Farewell

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They lowered him into the ground and said their goodbyes. He did not say goodbye back. That would have defeated the purpose of the exercise. They already thought he was gone. He wasn't. Just dead, and even that only halfway.

When he was quite sure he was buried (he could no longer hear the backhoe, or the soft, heavy sound of dirt falling on the coffin lid), he opened his eyes. It was dark. Very dark. He didn't mind. He had long been comfortable with darkness.

Besides, the dark didn't much matter when you could glow.

The coffin, he observed once again, was very nice. It was almost too bad he wouldn't be spending more time here, although, he reasoned with a smirk, he could always come back to visit. He sighed, restarting both his breathing and his heart. It was all very well and good not to have any organ function while he was lying nice and still, but he wanted everything working once he started moving around.

In the meantime...

He began to strip away the layers of illusion he had lived under for most of his life. First, ironically, went the sickly pallor of death. Then the wrinkles began to smooth, and his silver hair to fill in and darken. The clouds in his eyes faded, leaving them a perfect sky blue. Deeper things were harder. Shrinking cartiledge, muscles, bones, organs... It was a pain, but nothing he hadn't felt before. Once, he'd had to regrow the entire lower half of his body. Now _that _had been painful.

Once everything felt right, he pulled a mirror out of his pocket. His will had been very specific about the mirror, and where it should be. No one had remarked on it. His will had been very specific about a lot of things.

When he looked into it, he locked eyes with a faintly luminous fourteen-year-old version of himself. Good. That's what was supposed to happen. It didn't look like he had missed any spots. He was sure he would have felt it of he did, but better to be sure, than to be sorry. The suit was far too big for him now, of course, but there wasn't anything he could do about that.

He took a deep breath. The air was somewhat stale at this point, but it felt like all his organs were working again, so it was time to change. This time, instead of moving from feigned death and old age to a state of youth and vigor, he moved from living to dead.

A bright ring appeared around his waist, split, and traveled up and down his body, leaving changes in its wake. His black formal suit was replaced by HAZMAT, his skin tanned. His eyes went green, his hair white, and his glow intensified.

He dampened the glow. No need for that, really.

In any case, the coffin was now occupied not by a weirdo human, but by an equally strange ghost. He flicked himself out of visibility and tangibility with the ease of long practice, and flew up through the six feet of loose earth on top of his grave.

The funeral was long over, and the sun had set some time ago. No one living lingered. The unliving were a different story, or should be. He spun slowly, looking for things only ghosts and psychics could see.

He spotted them floating under an oak of what he would term exceptional age, and flew towards them. They waved, no more hampered by his invisibility than he was.

"Hi," he said. "I hope I didn't make you wait."

The girl with purple streaks in her dark hair smiled, teeth sharp. "Don't worry about it. We have all the time in the world. It was kind of funny to see you show up late to your own funeral, though."

The other boy, his eyes glowing orange behind thick glasses, nodded. "We always said it would happen."

"There was traffic," the first boy said, aggrieved, "and I wasn't driving."

"Don't worry, little bro," said the second, taller girl, ruffling his hair. Her own, long, teal hair stirred gently in the wind. "It was a nice service, anyway."

"Yeah," said the girl who looked like she could be his twin. Or clone. "You'd probably have been even later if you were driving, being dead and all."

He laughed. "That never stopped us before."

"True."

"But speaking of, why are you all so..." he trailed off, unsure how to phrase the question.

"Come on," said the other boy waving around something small and electronic. "You didn't think we'd let you be the only one running around as a teenager, did you?"

"No," he said, slowly, smiling, "I guess not." He looked up. Stars were showing through the leaves of the tree. "I think it's time to go, now."

"Do you want to do one last patrol around town?" asked his older sister. "For old time's sake?"

"It's not as if we're leaving forever," he said. "We'll be back, and not just to visit." He didn't know if he even could leave this town permanently. He certainly didn't want to.

"But would it be the same?"

"No, I guess it wouldn't. I think- I think I would like to do that, actually," he said, softly.

"So would I," said the girl with dark hair.

"Me too," said his double.

"Reliving the time of our lives? Count me in."

He nodded, swallowing to keep the tears from his eyes, and floated backwards. "Then what are we waiting for? Lets go!"

They first took a wide lap around town, enjoying the boarders where the buildings bled off into trees and farmland, and the river that separated them from their neighboring city. They overflew the schools. First the elementary and middle schools, then the high school. The children who attended them were the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of the people who had been their classmates. No one was there at this hour, not even for a football game. They passed by the Nasty Burger, and other restaurants they had frequented as they grew older, all of them busy, stuffed with people, bright with warm light and emotion. They flew _through _the mall. Invisibly, of course. No need to frighten anyone. Most of the stores were different from the ones that had been there when they were kids, but they were the same _kinds _of stores. They ghosted through the library, his older sister revisiting her old favorites. They wound through the trees of the park, segueing into a game of hide-and-seek, and then tag. They giggled as they skimmed over the surface of the pond.

Only then did they drift into the residential part of town. They looked in the windows of what once had been their houses, their homes, checking in on their families, their nieces, their nephews, their children, before they started their journey, before they left. But they didn't go in. It wouldn't be fair. They had already said goodbye. In some cases, they had said goodbye long ago.

It was time to move on.

They flew up. The stars above were mirrored by the lights below, glimmering rivers and their celestial rivers. They went up, and up, and up. There was a portal up there. They had been told there would be.

He stopped to look back down on the town, his companions coming to a halt above him.

He sighed. "Goodbye, Amity Park," he murmured. "Farewell for now, but not forever."

They left.


	3. Chapter 3

**I really don't know where I was going this, but, hey. Here it is. Maybe I'll do some more of this later?**

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Barrier

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"Mmf," said Danny. It felt early, and it was bright. His head hurt. He didn't like it, and he wanted to go back to sleep. "Uurrn." He stirred, cradling his head. His ears were ringing. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees. He wasn't on his bed. He was on the ground.

"What?" he muttered, letting his eyes open just a sliver. He saw grass and dirt, and... What was that?

He looked up, rubbing his head. He was able to place where he was almost instantly. This was the outskirts of Amity Park, the side of the city that edged on into a forest. What he couldn't place, however, was the giant silvery-blue, translucent wall that rose up from the ground a few feet in front of him. He blinked at it, then glared, suddenly certain that it was the cause of his current set of bruises, and what he hoped was short-term memory loss. The problem was, what was it?

Slowly, Danny inched forward, scooting across the ground. He went to prod the surface with a finger before realizing it was a probably a bad idea to touch it directly, at least at first. He found a twig, and used that instead. There was no give to the... whatever. Now that he was more awake, he knew it was probably some kind of ghost shield. Or human shield. Or whatever shield. It wasn't letting the twig pass through, but it wasn't harming it, either. After a moment's thought, he poked it with with his finger after all.

He could feel it vibrating against his skin. He barred his teeth. It felt... gross. Constrictive. Sticky and dirty, somehow.

He pulled his hand back, unsettled, and moved back. He tried to get to his feet, but unbalanced. That would be a concussion, then. What had he done, here, flown into the shield at high speed? He should probably call someone. He fumbled for his phone, an ancient brick that Tucker claimed was indestructible.

His mind, doing that weird thing that minds sometimes did, jumped to his parents, but that would be a terrible decision, for a number of reasons. Jazz would probably be best, even though she would scold him. She had a car. She _could _come get him. Neither Tucker nor Sam even drove.

Unfortunately, the brick didn't get great reception outside of town. Right now it had exactly zero bars. He glared at it. What was even the point of having this thing, if it didn't work when he needed it?

The shield continued to buzz behind him. He could hear it now, and the sound made his skin crawl. It wasn't like, say, the background hum of some parts of the Ghost Zone, or of a power station. It was bad, somehow. Really, really bad, and the more Danny listened to it, the more he looked at it, the more he wanted to get away.

He struggled to his feet, swaying, head pounding. He had really hit his head hard this time. Also, being hungry and being nauseated was a bad combination. How long had he been unconscious for? He couldn't remember being out here, and usually he only got this far from home at night, or on a weekend. He considered dragging his phone back out to check, despite its other limitations it did have a clock and a calendar, but he needed both hands to balance right now, thank you very much.

A fringe benefit of half-dying in a horrible accident was that Danny always knew where home was. It was impossible for him to get lost, despite how dizzy he was, and how fuzzy his vision was. He just had to keep going home.

He walked, stumbled, really, in a zigzag pattern, bouncing between trees. Using first one, then another to support him. His hands went sticky with sap and bits of bark. He didn't like it, but it was better than being near that- that thing. The wall. The barrier. The shield. Whatever.

It reminded him of something, though. It was a lot like what the older Valerie had described when... he had been in the... bad future. Except that... He paused and looked up. The sky was grey and glimmering, just like the wall. No, like the dome. Maybe that was why Danny had thought it was early when he woke up, besides the fact that he was _waking up_.

But then his head decided that looking up was _way _too much, and he sat down. Leaves and twigs crunched and squeaked under him. He groaned. He hadn't gotten very far. Although, he also couldn't tell how long he had been walking. It might not have been very long.

As long as he was sitting down, he might as well try his phone again. He pulled it out. The clock said 11:34. There was a teeny, tiny, sliver of a bar. He held it up, finger hovering over the button that would speed-dial Jazz. It wasn't any higher. He sighed, and brought it close again. If it didn't matter, he shouldn't strain himself. he hit the button.

He really needed this to work.

The phone picked up on the first ring.

_"Danny," _came Jazz's voice, staticky and distorted, but _there, "thank God. Where... you? Where have you been?" _

"I'm in the trees," said Danny, "the woods, um." He rubbed his eye. "I need you to pick me up."

_"Okay," _said Jazz. _"I'm on my way out. Where in the w...s are you? Like, t... ark, or what?"_

"Outside of town," said Danny. "Um. Southwest. Yeah. I think I have a concussion."

_"Who did it?" _asked Jazz, tone vengeful.

"I don't know. I think I just ran into this thing. This wall thing. This... Thing. That thing. You know. The thing." He hoped Jazz knew what he was talking about.

_"The GIW shield?"_

"Yeah, I guess. Why's it there?" The question was highly plaintive. He didn't like it. He didn't want it there. It shouldn't be anywhere near _his town. _His eyes flared green and a spike of pain went through his head. He whimpered, forcing down his ghost. He had to focus on healing, first. Sam, and Tuck, and Jazz always said he had to make sure he was healthy, otherwise he'd wouldn't be able to help anyone else.

_"I'll explain when I get you," _she said. _"Try to see if you... get to a road, or-. How much... ttery do you have?"_

Danny looked. "Like, half."

_"Okay, do you think you're in... park?"_

"Which?"

_"Canny Park?"_

"Maybe? I'm around there, I guess?"

_"Okay. Stay where you are... now, I'll call you once I... there."_

"Okay. Thank you, Jazz."

_"No problem, stay safe."_

He brought the phone down away from his ear, and settled in to wait.


	4. Chapter 4

**A continuation of the previous chapter.**

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Ectoplasm

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It was the phone ringing that woke Danny up this time. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He vaguely remembered that you weren't supposed to fall asleep when you had a concussion. Or was that different now? He didn't know.

Before he answered the phone, he checked the time. 12:12. Okay. That was a time. Yeah. He couldn't remember what it had been before.

"Jazz?" he said, into the phone.

_"I'm at the park with Sam and Tucker," _she said. _"Tell me if you hear this."_

There was a pause. "Hear what?"

_"We haven't done it yet. Come on, Tucker," _she prompted, words clipped. Then a long, low _blaaaaaaaaaaat _came out of the phone speaker.

"Was that an air horn?"

_"Yeah. Did you hear it?"_

"Only through the phone. Let me put the phone down, and do it again."

_"Sure."_

This time, Danny was able to hear a very faint, echo-y _blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat._ What followed was a game of hot and cold. Danny knew he wasn't being as helpful as he could have been. He kept getting distracted by the pain in his own head, and forgetting how loud the previous _blaaat__s _had been. Eventually, however, his friends had found him.

Normally, he would have zoned out at that point, but apparently he looked a lot worse than he'd thought. He hadn't even noticed the copious amount of blood and ectoplasm matting his hair and staining his clothes, or his broken arm. But then, concussions were brain injuries, and brain injuries could make things weird.

Jazz had brought the first aid kit, the big, green one. The one that had stuff for both humans and ghosts. It had a bunch of weird, Ghost Zone things in it, including vials of purified, energized ectoplasm, and ectoplasm patterned with Danny's ectosignature. Jazz made Danny drink one of each. He didn't want to. He couldn't possibly be that badly off. The former was sort of like drinking an unholy combination of caffeine and Nyquil. The later always made him think of drinking blood, even though it was sweet, and tasted absolutely nothing like blood.

They took turns carrying him. It was probably a good thing that he was supernaturally light, even as a human, but he could have done _some _walking. Probably. The ectoplasm was making him feel like a hyper noodle.

When they got to Jazz's car, they laid him down on the floor in front of the back seat. Sam got down so that his head was resting in her lap, and Tucker got into the front seat.

"Why?" he asked.

"So people looking in won't see you," said Jazz. She looked over the back of the seat as she got in. "The GIW have set up watching posts."

"Everything is very rapidly going to dystopian hell," said Sam. "No one's been able to get in or out of the shield since last night. We can't even call people outside."

"We'd honestly kinda hoped that you had gotten out, dude," said Tucker. "When you didn't come home, the options were either that, or, well. You know."

"Uh," said Danny. He was having some trouble processing. He _didn't _know, actually, but he suspected that when it came to him, it would keep him up at night.

The drove on, Danny zoning in and out, Sam trying to fix up some of his more superficial wounds, Jazz and Tucker talking quietly in the front seat. They got closer and closer to home, but then turned, going away.

"Where're we going?" asked Danny, confused. "I thought we were going home."

"We can't go home," said Jazz.

"Why?"

"The GIW have practically taken it over. We have a room at the Grand Julian. Thirteenth floor."

"You know," said Tucker, "the one that doesn't exist because Amity Park is where physics goes to take vacations."


	5. Chapter 5

**Short, because this prompt was stumping me. Sorry.**

**Also, I realized that yesterday I posted the wrong chapter for chapter four. The correct chapter is now up.**

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Sunset

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Sunsets were lot of things. The end of the day. The triumphant end of a western. A beautiful natural phenomenon. An indicator of the amount of pollution in the air. A contribution to difficulties driving, if you were heading west. An indicator to amateur astronomers to start getting ready. The beginning of the night life.

For one North American city, however, sunset was the dividing line between relatively normal life, and intense supernatural activity. When the sun went down, the ghosts came out, and the barrier between the solid, sensible world, and the land of the dead thinned to almost nothing. The people of the city tried to stay inside, or in well-lit areas. They stay away from abandoned buildings and graveyards. They whispered of superstitions and charms, of guardian spirits and malevolent specters.

The name of the city was Amity Park.


	6. Chapter 6

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Blob Ghost

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Danny walked down the stairs with a sandwich, intending to eat it in the lab, so that he could soak up some ectoplasmic rays from the portal. That way, he could feed both his halves at the same time, and wind up with a nice, balanced meal. He couldn't do that as often as he liked, because his parents were so often down here, but they were out today, checking out a haunted house (it wasn't) in Elmerton. He had the house, and the lab, to himself.

He sunk down into a rolling office chair, his parents used them down here, and started looking around as he ate his sandwich. His parents had been pretty busy down here the past few days, and they had moved some things around. They also hadn't been very clean. There were green globs of ectoplasm everywhere.

Who would get to clean that up, he wondered? Probably him, based on past events. He rolled his eyes. Well, as long as none of it was actually corrosive, ghost-destroying slime, he was fine with that. But seriously, he was starting to see why Jazz called Mom and Dad irresponsible and immature.

Then he saw one of the globs move. He lowered his sandwich back to his plate, and put it aside. It wasn't unheard of for ectoplasm to move independently, but that had struck Danny as rather purposeful. There it went again! It scooted over to cover a smaller, chunkier bit of ectoplasm. Interestingly, it didn't leave a smear on the table behind it, and it didn't really stretch out or deform, like he'd expect it to.

He stood up, and walked around so he could see the blob's other side. His eyes widened as he realized that the blob, too, had eyes. Dark, shiny, soulful eyes. The blob was a ghost. A little blob ghost. He took a step forward, and, belatedly, his ghost sense went off.

He laughed, making the blob ghost start. Danny suppressed another laugh, and instead made little reassuring noises. He looked around more carefully, and saw that a number of the larger 'ectoplasm globs' were actually blob ghosts, and were chasing down the actual globs of ectoplasm to eat them. Danny was charmed. He wondered what they felt like, and if they would be terribly upset if he touched them.

After a moment of thought, Danny slowly approached the first blob ghost. He got closer, and closer, and closer, then he was close enough to touch, and the ghost didn't seem terrible upset by that, so he did, starting to pet it. The blob, instead of being afraid, began to purr.

Danny giggled. The little ghost felt a lot like the more solid part of his ghostly tail: cool, soft, and plush. It was just a little squishier. It was also, on closer inspection, just slightly transparent. Looking through it, Danny thought that he could see its core.

It was cute. Very cute. Especially the way it ate the ectoplasm. Reminded of food, and not wanting to outstay his welcome with the little ghost, Danny returned to his sandwich. As he ate, he watched the ghosts eat. They were cute. Also, they were doing his chores for him.

But there wasn't an infinite amount of ectoplasm lying around the lab. Once the ghosts were finished with that, they lifted off the various lab surfaces, and flew over to Danny, squishing into him. They were very different from the will-o-the-wisps Danny knew, but they had the same sort of friendly feeling. He giggled.

"Okay, okay," he said. "I can get you some more."


	7. Chapter 7

**This one is a bit experimental, please tell me what you think!**

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Broken

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For ghosts, emotional pain and physical pain were often one and the same.

Danny's heart was broken. So he was-

Broken-

Broken-

Broken-

He was broken.

Every heartbeat was pain. Every single one. Every single pulse was agony.

He curled in the dark, in his closet, a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He curled and cried and hoped beyond hope that this would stop. That he could forget, and move on.

He knew why. Knew why this happened. Why this had to happen.

He knew. He knew. He knew.

It had to happen. It had to. He knew why. Sam couldn't let him continue to be under Ember's spell. It had to be broken. Broken. Broken. Like his heart.

It felt like it was in a thousand pieces, shards of glass and painted ceramic, each of them grinding against each other but _why?_

From the very first second, as soon as the spell was cleared from his eyes, he knew it was a ruse. Sam didn't actually like Dash. No one liked Dash. If anything, Sam hated Dash. Loathed him. So why, why, why was he so-

Broken-

Broken-

Broken?

He bit back a sob. It hurt. It shouldn't hurt. He shouldn't feel like this about a friend. He shouldn't be so _possessive_. It wasn't right. He didn't, couldn't, wouldn't, own Sam.

There was a knock on the closet door, and he jumped.

"Danny?" came her voice, Sam's voice. "Jazz said you were in here."

"Don't come in!" shouted Danny, trying to hide the tears in his voice. Trying to hide how-

Broken-

Broken-

Broken-

-it was.

There was a pause, during which Danny held his breath.

"I'm coming in," announced Sam. She pushed in the door, and stared down at him. Danny hid. "Jeez, dude, are you okay?"

"I, uh, I think it's just, uh, leftovers from, um, Ember. The mind control."

"Yeah, it looked like everyone at school had a headache or something. Tucker's all messed up, too, of course, but that could be from the study-brainwashing."

"Mhm. Yeah, it hurts."

"If you wanted," said Sam, shifting from foot to foot, the floor squeaking beneath her, "I could stay with you, until you feel better, if you want. We could talk. Or not talk. Whatever."

"That would be nice," said Danny, speaking into his knees.

Sam settled down next to him, and put an arm around his shoulders. "It's going to be alright."


	8. Chapter 8

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World Building

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Many strange and wondrous creatures made their homes in the Infinite Realms. Any of them might have been called ghosts, but that was a broad and sweeping term, much like 'life,' or 'matter.' Much like the living, the denizens of the Realms divided themselves into groups of race and tribe, species and breed, origin and creed. They ranged from the microscopic, to the massive, from the blindingly intelligent, to the completely mindless. The Realms might seem sparsely populated, but they _teemed._

There were the behemoths, great beasts with four arms and red fur. They were the guardians of artifacts and precious things, their shared Obsession driving them to seek out such things and protect them, sometimes even hoard them. They acted more like the human conception of dragons than anything else.

Unicorns existed in the Realms as well, but they were not the soft, placid things of human myth. They were fierce, fiery, vicious, and used their horns to maximum effect, impaling and rending their victims before feasting on their flesh. Only virgins, or the truly pure of heart, could even hope to calm them, and their otherwise indiscriminate attacks caused most of their race to be sealed inside Pandora's Box as one of the Ghost Zone's evils.

Yetis, frost giants, had a Realm to themselves: The Far Frozen, one of the Lands of Ice. They were huge, bear like, with white fur, claws, sharp teeth, horns, and yellow eyes, dangerous in appearance and fact. Yet, their tribe was home to one of the longest-lived civilizations of the Realms, and they were a people of great honor, skilled artisans, and advanced medicine. They took the ancient duties of their tribe seriously, and kept their secrets well.

But there was an even stranger creature who frequented the

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A bare few days was not enough time for anyone to master ice, reflected Frostbite. That the Great One had managed even a semblance of doing so was impressive. Then, to use that incomplete skill to defeat Undergrowth, Master of Nature, one of the seven Ancients, was more impressive still. Not, perhaps, so much so as defeating Pariah Dark, the Ghost King- No. The _former _Ghost King, but few things were.

It was, therefore, not surprising to Frostbite when the Great One returned a few days later (once again literally falling out of the sky), shivering with suppressed cold.

Every time Frostbite saw the Great One, he was struck by how very small and young he was. The Great One was one of the Dead, not the Deathless, the born ghosts, and Frostbite knew that humans matured, aged, much faster than his people, but the Great One had less than two decades to his name. The youngest cub in the Far Frozen had six, and was twice as large. Frostbite could hold the Great One in one hand. Snowdrift took at least an arm.

"S-sorry to _drop _in on y-you, Fr-Frostbite," the Great One said, stuttering as he shivered. "But my powers kinda, heh, f-_froze _me out."

From the way he emphasized certain words, Frostbite guessed there was a joke in there, possibly even several of them. The Great One's sense of humor was somewhat... inscrutable, however. Frostbite suspected that came from cultural differences. The Great One had been raised human, after all.

The Great One made a weak attempt to fly out of the snow, but settled down on top of it, drooping, skin tinted blue. "I th-think I n-need help. S-sorry ab-about this."

"It is quite alright, Great One!" said Frostbite, trying to mask his worry. The Great One was strong and so were his ice powers. Normally, for any of their other cubs, this would be a good thing, but the great one was half-human, and his body had not yet adapted to the cold it could produce and contain.

He scooped the child up, and lifted off the ground, flying back towards the village. The h

Great one sighed, and burrowed into Frostbite's fur.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

.

The unicorn raised its head from the stream. Water dripped from its barred fangs. It felt something. Something interesting. A forked tongue flicked from between its lips, and its fiery mane flared blue. It kicked off the ground, and pranced upwards, hooves striking sparks from the air. Ghosts had a habit of making their own rules of physics.

It paused, deceptively dainty, on a tiny island. It looked from side to side, nostrils flaring and tongue flicking, trying to scent the air. The thing it was looking for was nearby. It could tell.

Finally, it determined a direction, and it sprang off. Sounds of battle reached its ears. It was close, now. A meal was at hand. A meal, and perhaps something else.

It bounced merrily, murderously, over a series of larger islands, and through a bank of ectoplasmic mist. It paused a moment, to take in the battle. There were two ghosts. One was large, lizard-like, with light green scales, angry red eyes, and eight thin legs. The other was quite small. Humanoid. Black and white and green. Fast and vicious. It was this second one that had that _something _the unicorn was attracted to.

The unicorn lowered its head, and charged. At the lizard, of course. Its horn went right through the lizards core, and it was destroyed instantly. The unicorn let the lizard's already disintegrating body slide off the horn, and turned to face the other ghost. It looked rather taken aback by the whole situation, radiating uncertainty.

The unicorn sniffed the air. The little ghost was pure, yes, innocent, yet, but there was something... Off. The unicorn shook its head, and turned its attention to the body of the lizard tearing off strips of ectoplasmic flesh.

"Okay then," said the little ghost. "I'm just gonna... go."

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It was rare for a behemoth to lose its horde, but that was exactly what had happened to this one. She was depressed. Horribly so. She had protected the Skeleton Key for hundreds of years, since shortly after Pariah was locked away. The loss... it was unbearable.

She lay limp, unmoving, on a lump of floating rock, too miserable to move, even to return to her lair. If she didn't find something else to protect soon, something precious, something valuable, at least as valuable as the Key had been, she would waste away as her Obsession starved. But there were few things in the Realms that could equal that.

In essence, the behemoth was waiting to die.

A loud, high, _young _shriek pierced the silence of the Realms. The behemoth lifted her head, curiosity temporarily overcoming apathy. There was pain in that scream.

And then- "Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. You never learn, do you?"

The behemoth's hackles went up. That voice- _That voice. _It belonged to the one who had taken the Key from her! That evil, evil man! She was ending, but she would take her pound of flesh before she did.

She flew up, re-energized, at least for the moment, and barreled towards the voice at high speed. The man came into view and she roared, enraged. The two battling ghosts looked up to her, but she was only interested in the larger of the two. She was only interested in _him. _

"Oh, butter biscuits!"

She swallowed him whole. Oh, to be sure, he would be able to get out eventually. He had gotten out last time, and she was weaker now, but it would take days, maybe even weeks. It had taken months last time.

There was a soft whimper, and the behemoth turned. The smaller ghost was lying on a nearby island, nursing injuries, serious ones. Fear was written over his face. As well it might be, he had just seen her eat someone!

The behemoth inched closer, entranced by some quality the little ghost had. He tried to run, fly off, but fell back to the ground, curling around his midsection. She took the opportunity to come closer still, and nudged him with one of her hands.

"Please don't eat me," he whispered. "Please don't eat me, I'm not tasty, please don't eat me."

She licked him, tasting one of the ectoplasm stains. He whimpered. He really was hurt, wasn't he? It was too bad she couldn't do anything but clean his wounds, and he was making that difficult. Finally, somewhat satisfied, the behemoth curled herself around the child, wrapping her long tail securely around him, and hummed.

Maybe she had found something precious after all.

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Danny had to admit, he was often confused about how ghosts reacted to him. The people of the Far Frozen practically worshiped him. Unicorns ignored him. And now, this. This wasn't so bad, though. He actually felt sort of... protected. Like when he was with Clockwork, or Frostbite.

He sighed, and started to hum back.


	9. Chapter 9

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Pet

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"I'm not your pet," hissed Danny, more to reassure himself than anything else.

Vlad didn't answer right away, tilting back his head so that he could look down his aristocratic nose at Danny. "No," he said, finally. "But if you would prefer that scenario, I assure you, I can arrange it, son."

Danny shivered at the genteel emphasis Vlad put on the last word. Vlad put his hand on Danny's head, and forced his fingers through his hair.

"Would you, son?"

Danny's throat tightened, but the words came out anyway. "No, father."

"Good," said Vlad. He smiled, eyes half kidded and opaque. He dragged his hand down over the side of Danny's face, coming to a rest when it was cupped around the side of Danny's neck, his thumb brushing gently over the ribbon tied there.

According to Vlad, the ribbon had been made by a witch who had wanted to resurrect her daughter,, whi had been beheaded, and had added certain 'safety features' in case what came back wasn't her daughter. Safety features that would, for example, let her force an imposter into the role of obedient daughter, regardless of what it actually was. Danny didn't know if that was true or not. He had never met an actual witch, but he was half-dead, so he wasn't one to question the plausibility of someone else's existence.

Besides, what the thing did to Danny was pretty much undeniable. First, it forced him into his human form, which he suppose aligned with the 'resurrection' bit. Second, it forced Danny to bend somewhat to Vlad's will, although there seemed to be some wiggle room there, space for interpretation. So far, Vlad had only forced Danny to act as his son, but he claimed he could make Danny take on other, more humiliating roles. Danny hadn't pushed the issue yet. Third, and worst, if the ribbon came off, so did Danny's head.

That wasn't a figure of speech.

When Danny first woke up in Vlad's lab, when the word 'father' first tumbled from his lips, he had realized what the ribbon was doing, and took it off. There hadn't been anything special keeping it on. He just had to pull out the knot, and when he did, his head fell off, his neck separating right where the ribbon had lain against it.

Being beheaded was among the most horrible things he had ever experienced. It hurt, each of his nerve endings lit up and _screaming_, like he couldn't, what with his vocal cords and mouth separated from his lungs. He had no control, his head just rolled away across the floor, mouth working uselessly, and his body seized, jerking and arching wildly, his hands reaching for his neck out of instinct. He could feel his body as it happened, though, just like he could feel his face pressed against the floor that was rapidly growing slick with blood.

He'd been certain he was about to die again, but, whether it was part of the ribbon's power, or part of Danny's hybrid biology, he didn't. He stayed alive, awake, and aware through the entire ordeal.

Vlad had picked up Danny's head and it dripped with blood and helpless, shocked, tears. He brought it over to his weakly thrashing body, and, with surprising gentleness, reattached it, wrapping the ribbon securely around the wound. Danny gasped as the wound resealed itself, and coughed up blood. He collapsed in on himself in shock and remembered agony.

Vlad, again to Danny's surprise, had then helped Danny clean himself, leading him to the bath, getting him fresh clothes, and helping him undress and scrub when it became clear that he simply couldn't do so himself. When it became obvious that he was shaking too much to hold onto anything, that he would just stare blankly into space if left to his own devices, Vlad had been oddly solicitous. Gentle. Supportive.

Danny had needed that, badly. Being beheaded was was traumatic.

But, now, they were back to... this. Then again, they had never really gotten _away _from this. Vlad had caused the whole thing in the first place, and Danny wasn't sure if his reaction to the comfort Vlad offered wasn't partially caused by the ribbon's other effects. He wasn't going to test that by taking off the ribbon again, though. He was attached to his head, figuratively and literally, and he wanted it to stay that way.

"Good," repeated Vlad. He sat back down on the couch, and patted the cushion next to him. "Now, sit."

That was the order that he had taken exception to, earlier. He grit his teeth, and sat down. Vlad put his arm around Danny's shoulders, and pulled him close. Danny stayed very still.

"Now," said Vlad. "How have you been doing with your studies?"

Vlad had hired a tutor for Danny. A ghost tutor, to preserve their numerous secrets. Among the many indignities he'd suffered, having to do schoolwork he wouldn't even be graded on was... Not one of the worst. It was still bad.

"I'm okay," said Danny.

"Very good," said Vlad. He rubbed Danny's arm. "Tell me, what have you learned."

The thing was, Danny knew that Vlad always, _always_, tested things on himself before using them on Danny. It was one of his (very) few redeeming features. As was obvious, Vlad's head was firmly attached to his body, high collared shirts aside. That meant that Vlad had either found some way to take off the ribbon without taking off his head, or he had found some way to reattach his head himself. Danny didn't know which, but he would find out.

He finished telling Vlad what he had learned.

"Very good," breathed Vlad. He held Danny tighter, and leaned over to kiss Danny on the forehead. "Very good," he repeated.

Danny would find out. He had to.

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**FYI, parts of this are inspired by a story called the Red Satin Ribbon. Others are inspired by other headless!Danny fics I've read and can no longer find. (At least one of them was in a collection, and I can no longer remember who did it. It had Jack sorta-accidentally cut off Danny's head. It was really good.)**


	10. Chapter 10

**The prompt said 'water,' my brain said 'mermaid AU.' So here we are.**

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Water

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Danny's parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, were brilliant multidisciplinary scientists, engineers, and inventors. They owned dozens of patents, their names were on hundreds of papers, and they were quite wealthy. They also had the nasty habit of dragging their children around the country, looking for cryptids. Their latest obsession? Mermaids. Jazz, Danny's sister, was convinced they had some kind of mental disorder.

As a result of this, Danny had exactly one (1) friend, a singular Tucker Foley, whose internet wizardry had kept them in close contact even when the Fentons were away from their main home in Amity Park. As they usually were. Danny and Jazz had been homeschooled ever since Dash Baxter had broken Danny's arm in the third grade, freeing the Fentons up to travel even more.

At least it seemed like they'd stay here, in Blue Cove, for a while. Jack and Maddie had bought a house on the beach, and even a small boat. Blue Cove had a reputation for mermaid sightings. Hunting down all the rumors and hoaxes would keep Jack and Maddie occupied for some time, as would making 'weapons' to combat the 'threat.'

Danny had long ago stopped asking why his parents saw every cryptid, from ghosts to bigfoot, as a threat. It was better for his sanity.

Being subject to such an... unusual lifestyle, Jazz and Danny had developed a number of special interests. Yes, school work took up a good portion of their time, but Jazz was taking college correspondence courses, Danny was working through pre-calc, and the government didn't really care so long as they kept passing their state tests. Jazz was almost as obsessed with psychology as her parents were with cryptids, and had some interest in being a brain surgeon. Danny was a bit more varied. He wanted to be an astronaut, went stargazing every chance he got, and was fluent in two (almost three) languages.

He could also sing. In fact, according to Tucker, Jazz and the few others who had heard him, he was quite good. Even so, he was also very self-conscious about it. He didn't really like singing in front of other people.

So, whenever the Fentons came to a new place, Danny would try to find simewhere to stargaze and sing in peace. Here, in Blue Cove, the end of their private dock was shaping up to be that place. It was dark, far enough from the house no one could hear him, cooler than the house, and the water rocked it in a sort of soothing way.

The acoustics of the water were odd. The songs he was practicing echoed right back to him.

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A week later, and Danny was half convinced that someone- or several someones- was singing back to him. Only half, because he couldn't see anyone who could be doing it, and the mermaid myths would make a lot more sense if there was some kind of natural echo phenomenon in the cove. (Jazz had told him once that a lot of myths and legends started out that way: stories told to explain natural phenomenon.)

Tonight, Danny had brought a new song with him. A duet. He hoped that, if there was someone singing back to him, they would take the invitation to join in.

They did. Danny was thrilled. He didn't have many chances to make friends. The other singer's voice was just slightly higher than his, which admittedly hadn't dropped yet, just a little more girlish.

"My name is Danny," he said once the song was finished.

The water lapped at the dock and the shore.

"I'm Sam."

Ah. A boy after all, then. He was probably a little younger than Danny.

"It's nice to meet you."

Another pause.

"I have to go, now," said Sam. "Will- Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Yep," said Danny, cheerfully, quite forgiving of his new friend's shyness, even if he was intensely curious about where he was hiding. "Wanna sing together again?"

"That would be nice."

.

Danny met Sam several more times, each without actually seeing him. Danny got the impression that he had weirdly strict relatives, or something like that. He didn't really question it. His idea of weird had been massively skewed by his own parents, and he was glad to have a friend who shared his interests.

Meeting up with Sam on the dock to sing and stargaze became routine very quickly. Sam didn't know much about astronomy, and knew way more about music, so they took turns teaching each other. Sam never initiated the conversations. That was fine. Danny was usually the shy one, so he knew how that felt.

Tonight, though, tonight something was different. He knew as soon as he set foot on the dock, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was, exactly, that was giving him that feeling. So, he just walked out to the end of the dock, as per usual. The sky was very clear tonight, and the International Space Station was supposed to do a flyover. He got to the end of the dock and laid down, so he could stare up at the sky.

That's when he heard it. A voice- No. Several voices, singing a lullaby. He tried to get up, see where it was coming from, but the song got... bigger. Not louder. Not closer. Bigger. Bigger than the thought of getting up. He laid there, listening, as the song got bigger and bigger, until it filled him utterly, and he closed his eyes.

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Sam struggled against her captors. She had switched from tail to legs some time ago, and was kicking hard, but Valerie and Kitty were not dissuaded.

"God, Sam. Stop being such a baby," said Paulina as she floated in the water in front of, and slightly above Sam. "You know the rules. As soon as you find one you think you'll like, you take it right away, and figure out if it's worth it later. Seriously, you don't flirt with them beforehand. What would your mom think?"

Sam glared furiously. She really care what her mom thought. As far as she was concerned, this wasn't any of her business. Nor was it Paulina's, Valerie's, Kitty's, Star's, or Ember's. In fact, it wasn't anyone's business except for Sam's and _maybe _Danny's.

Paulina tossed her head, and her hair swirled in the water. "Look," she said, "we've already done the hard part, you don't have to do any singing with your awful, scratchy voice, you just have to go up, get him, then kiss him or drown him. Even you should be able to do that."

The only response Paulina got was an even more furious glare. However, that might have been because Kitty had a hand pressed firmly over Sam's mouth.

"Hey," said Valerie, "I think I've got an idea." She indicated the large red bag she always carried with her, both on land and beneath the waves. "You'll need to take my place holding the weirdo, though."

Paulina wrinkled her nose. "Star," she said, "you do it. Ember, make sure he stays asleep."

"'Kay," chirped Star, flicking her orange-red tail and dropping down to Sam's level. "Go for it girl."

Valerie darted off grinning, reached into her bag, and... pulled out an anchor. An anchor. That's what she was carrying around all the time? Really? An _anchor?_ Why? For what possible reason could she need to carry around an anchor? No wonder she was so strong. Valerie pulled it away from the bag, and a length of chain came with it, along with a freaking manacle. Crap. Sam thrashed. This wasn't _fair. _Danny hadn't even ever _seen _her.

Paulina smiled. "Ooh! Fun!"

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The very small part of Danny's mind not occupied by the lullaby noticed a tug on his ankle. He pried his eyes open, and flopped his head over. What was going on? Why was he asleep here? He hadn't ever fallen asleep on the docks before.

There was someone there, propped up with one arm on the dock, pulling her half out of the water, most of her body below it, out of sight.

He blinked rapidly, trying to focus his eyes, and banished the illusion. There couldn't be anyone here. But there was. A girl, with dark, wet, hair that fell in ringlets around her face. Her eyes were sea green and reflective, the quirk of her mouth cruel. She held up something in the hand that wasn't supporting her weight.

An anchor and chain? What?

She dropped it.

Something pulled tight and hard against his ankle, dragging him sideways across the dock and _down. _As he was pulled off the dock, he scrabbled for purchase, for something to hold onto, but he was in the wrong position to grab onto the edge, and the dock's poles were too far away to grab. All he succeeded at was painfully banging his elbows, shoulders, and head.

He was underwater.

Panic drove away the last of his muzziness. He was getting pulled down, his leg painfully taught. The anchor was small, and Danny was an okay swimmer, he'd had lessons as a child, but he had never swum with any more weight on him than a swimming suit. He wasn't strong enough to swim against it, to pull it up.

He had to get it off.

The water made his movements slow. He couldn't see very well, either, between the dark and the water. There were shadowy shapes in the water around him. His mind, unhelpfully, supplied _'sharks!' _

He felt for the thing around his ankle, trying to pry it off. It was cold, and hard, and his lungs were burning.

He had to breathe. He couldn't breathe. He had to breathe. He couldn't breathe.

He had to breathe.

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"Ouch!" shrieked Kitty, finally letting go of Sam. "She _bit _me! Gross!"

Sam kicked free of Kitty and Star, her legs rippling back into her tail (black scales edged with purple and green) and made a beeline for the struggling, sinking form of Danny Fenton.

Ember grabbed her arm, dragging her back. "Hey girl, I thought you didn't like the dipstick like that?"

"Haha! He's a real dipstick now, isn't he?" said Star. "Seeing as he's in the water and all."

"Wow, it's been forever since we've seen a good drowning. It's way more fun when they fight, though. This guy's too much of a wimp to do much of that, though, huh?" Paulina laughed.

Sam slashed at Ember with her claws. The other girl let her go easily. The goal had been to delay her. Danny wasn't moving anymore. The anchor had hit the bottom. The water wasn't deep here, just deep enough.

She tried the manacle first, but it was locked. She swallowed. Crap.

She went up, cupped his face in her hands. Crap. She really liked Danny, she didn't want him to die, but she really, really wished there was some other way to do this.

She kissed him.

For a moment, she worried she was too late. She worried she had hesitated for too long. But then, he tensed under her touch.

His eyes snapped open, bright and glowing green.


	11. Chapter 11

**A continuation of chapter 10 (water).**

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Shapeshift

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Danny was frightened. That much was obvious. Sam had heard that the first transformation could be traumatic. She supposed that drowning was pretty traumatic, too. She wouldn't know. She couldn't drown.

His eyes were huge, pupils fully dilated, and luminous. Tiny, bright, silver and green stripes were appearing on his body, and strands of his hair were going bright. Bioluminescence. That was unusual. Not unheard of, Ember and Kitty both had it, but rare (Sam squashed the passing thought that it was also kinda hot). He wasn't forming a tail. The manacle on his ankle was probably preventing that. Or was it his clothes.

He tried to cringe away from Sam, but she held him close. He was soft, and sort of squishy in places. He didn't have much fat, but he didn't have much muscle, either. That would go away soon enough. Life in the sea was an active, vicious, one. He would almost certainly have to fight to survive.

Speaking of...

"Back off," hissed Sam.

Paulina circled closer. "Why? You didn't even want him, and he looks tasty." She brushed her frilled maroon tail against Danny's shoulder.

Danny stopped trying to (ineffectively) pull away from Sam, and shuddered closer. He was blinking rapidly. His senses likely hadn't adapted to being underwater yet. Even Sam took a couple of minutes to fully adapt when going between the water and the open air. Water refracted both light and sound differently.

"I said back off. He's one of us now."

"Please. He started life human. He'll never be anything but meat to play with."

Danny made an odd, strangled noise. Heck. Was not making the full shift screwing him up somehow? Sam didn't know enough about the transformation to tell.

"Where's the key?" Sam demanded. "Valerie, where's the key? I did what you wanted, right? Give me the key."

Valerie rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I need my anchor back, anyway." She swam over, key in hand.

Danny, predictably, tried to swim up as soon as the manacle came off. Sam dragged him back. She caught him whimper something that sounded a lot like, "I'm hallucinating."

She didn't blame him. Most people didn't believe in mermaids. She'd probably be pretty freaked out, if, like, ghosts wound up existing, or something. Sam shot a last glare at the other girls and pulled Danny away with her. She knew a nice little underwater cave not too far off. She could keep Danny underwater more easily there.

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Danny was convinced that he was having some kind of dying hallucination. He had fallen in to the water, was drowning, and now his brain was making up mermaids. Cannibal mermaids, no less. He _would_ spend the last minutes (seconds?) of his life finding out that he was as nutty as his parents.

At least he got to hallucinate being kissed, before he died. He'd never kissed anyone before. That was nice, though it didn't make up for the pain of having his lungs fill with water, or whatever was happening to the rest of his body. It felt like it was being gone over with pins and needles, especially his legs, the sides of his ribs, and the sides of his neck.

It hurt.

The one who had kissed him was dragging him somewhere. They (She? He?) were little more than a dark blur on his vision. It had been hard to see above water. The water blocked even more light- or it should have. It actually seemed... lighter. That was wrong, wasn't it? If he was dying, shouldn't it be getting darker?

Maybe he wasn't dying. Maybe he was just having a psychotic break. That was... better? Yeah. He didn't want to be dying.

"Danny."

Danny jerked. He knew that voice. "Sam?" What the heck? How was he speaking? He was underwater. He shouldn't be speaking.

"Look at me," the mer... person (Sam?) commanded. Two hands guided his face up, through the water. He met an indistinct set of vaguely purple eyes. "I know you're scared. But, uh, that's normal."

"What?" He blinked, the face in front of him becoming a little clearer. "Sam?" His voice sounded really weird. How come Sam's sound normal?

"Yeah, it's me. Look, um. I'm a... sort of a... shapeshifter. And, uh. So are you, now."

"What?" repeated Danny. The prickling sensation in his legs redoubled. They itched.

"Just, please don't freak out."

"What? What's going on?"

"You're a shapeshifter, now. We, uh. We can change people by... kissing them. At least, girls can. Guys can't."

Danny stared. "Oh my god, Sam, you kissed me."

"That's what you focus on?"

"Oh my god, you're a girl."

"... Yeah?"

"Oh my god. Sam. You're a- You have a tail. You're a mermaid."

"I'm aware," said Sam, tone very flat.

"And you said that I-" He looked down, and his voice choked off as he saw that he no longer had any legs. He looked back up at Sam. "_Why?_" His eyes felt like they should be crying, but he wasn't, probably because he was underwater. This was so weird.

Sam shrugged uncomfortably. "It wasn't my idea. There's a rule about not getting close to normal people without changing them, and Paulina and her goons thought we were getting too close."

"So they tried to _kill_ me?" said Danny, aggrieved. "They tried to- Oh my god. My parents are going to kill me. They're going to-"

"Wait, what? What are you talking about? Why would your parents want to kill you?"

"They hunt cryptids! Shapeshifters fall under that category! Merpeople certainly do. That's that's why they're here. To look for mermaids." He tried to curl up, but wan't used to the tail yet, so that didn't work. He settled for knotting his fingers through his hair. "I can't ever see them again. They'll think I ran away, or was kidnapped or something."

"That's not strictly true," said Sam, clearly trying to adopt a comforting tone. "Just, uh, look. When we get out of the water, we can change so we look human again. That's the shapeshifter part. Your parents don't have to ever know. But you're really going to have to tell me more about the 'hunting cryptids' part."

"We can change?" asked Danny, hopefully. "Just by going up?"

"Yeah. But you can't yet!" Sam said quickly, grabbing Danny's his arm and dragging him back. She was really strong, and moved much better in the water. "This is your first time. You have to stay in, at least for a few hours, otherwise you'll hurt yourself. If you don't spend a few hours underwater every day, you'll get sick. And it's more important to do that early on. That's what I've heard, anyway."

"What you've heard?" echoed Danny.

"Well, I haven't exactly _done _this before."

Danny cast around, trying not to be mad, because that was stupid. His vision was clearing. He could see the boundaries of cave they were in, Sam's outline, the faint cave opening. But where was the light coming from? He looked down.

"I'm glowing," he half-said, half-moaned.

"Yeah. It's a thing for some people. So, uh, the 'hunting cryptids' thing."


	12. Chapter 12

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History

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Clockwork came home from a meeting with the Observants to find a small ghost collapsed face-first on one of the couches in his library, a sheaf of crumpled papers clenched in an outflung hand. He had known he would find this, however, and while concerned, wasn't particularly worried.

"Hello, Daniel," he said, calmly. "What's wrong?"

"It's not fair!" the little ghost, Daniel, exploded. "I already know this! I was there! Nero didn't burn dow Rome, it was Vlad. And then- And _then_ Ember shows up and burns half my packet so I don't even know what to do anymore, and Sam and Tuck have different topics, and when I tried to do what I had, Technus crashed my computer and I lost all my work! I've been to Rome! I speak Latin! I know what it's like!"

Clockwork rubbed a small circle into Daniel's back. "You realize there was more than one fire in Rome. The one that occurred in Nero's reign. is merely the best remembered."

Daniel's scream was muffled by the couch cushions. It crossed Clockwork's mind that this sort of behavior was fairly common among teenagers, although there weren't many other teenagers who could accurately call themselves baby eldritch abominations. Luckily, Clockwork was an_ adult _eldritch abomination.

"Would you like some help?" asked Clockwork, still perfectly calm.

"I won't be cheating?" asked Danny, voice hollow.

"Asking for help isn't cheating."

"... I would like some help."

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**If you like Lost Time (platonic Danny/Clockwork), please consider reading Grandfather Clocks! (Shameless self-promotion over).**


	13. Chapter 13

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Accident

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It was an accident. Vlad would swear it to anyone who asked. Vlad had meant to kill one Fenton, not three. Unfortunately, the people involved didn't seem especially inclined to ask. Vlad fled at the first opportunity. They had been stronger than he expected, stronger than they should have been, but there was no way they could outrace him, not in their current state.

Still, Vlad wouldn't feel safe until he was in his mansion and behind several layers of shielding, both human and ghost. Daniel's sister and little friends had taught him to be wary of what humans could do, if nothing else.

He reached his mansion, and dove down, through ceilings, walls, and floors, not stopping until he reached his lab, where he could trigger his defenses. The shields buzzed into life, isolating the mansion from the world around it. Only then did he let himself collapse into a nearby chair. Only then did he let himself begin to grieve.

_Maddie..._

He had never meant to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her. If not for that oaf, Jack... It was his fault. It was his fault, and Daniel's, not Vlad's. If Jack had left the 'package' in the lab, instead of bringing it up into the house, where Maddie was recovering from her cold, if Daniel hadn't spent that night disabling Vlad's cameras and early warning system, if Daniel hadn't distracted Vlad from seeing Jack bring the thing up, it never would have happened. Jack would have been the only one to die, and Jack had deserved it, for ruining Vlad's life, for trapping him in that hospital for years, for turning him into a monster.

But Maddie... But the children... Vlad choked back a sob. Maddie. He had loved her. It wasn't right that she should be dead, that he should be left alone.

He choked back a sob.

His portal exploded inwards, showering him and the lab with smoking metal debris. He was pushed out of his chair by the shockwave, and tumbled twice before he got his bearings, leaping to his feet to fight and destroy whatever interloper dare disturb him in his time of grief.

The slight figure of a teenager stepped out of the portal, and Vlad stumbled back in shock, the ectoplasm gathered in his hands flickering.

"No," he said. "Impossible!"

"Hello, Vlad," said Jasmine Fenton. She walked delicately forward, avoiding every piece of debris with precision.

"You can't be here," said Vlad.

"Yet here we are."

Vlad took a step back, then stealing himself, threw a ecto-blast at her. A green-gold shield appeared between them. Jasmine didn't flinch, didn't take her eyes off him. Her golden eyes, set in a paper-white face, framed by cerulean hair. Her free hand held a fistful of flames that knotted around her fingers. Green at the bases, orange at the tips. Light warped around her. Her footsteps were marked in blackened metal. Vlad had never seen such a new ghost display so much power. He had never seen such a new ghost, period. It should have taken her days to form.

"You're going to pay for what you've done," said Jasmine. "You're going to pay _everything._"

"You- You don't understand," said Vlad, backing into a wall. "It was an accident!" Rightly speaking, Jasmine shouldn't remember most of her life, much less recall the last few hours well enough to blame him _already. _"I didn't mean to kill anybody!" Anybody important. It should have just been Jack!

The ghost stopped, tilted her head. "What?"

"It- It was an accident," repeated Vlad, hopeful. Jasmine, unlike her brother or father, had always been more open to reason.

The ghost looked down, and to her side, where her brother clung, weeping, to her arm. Daniel, uncharacteristically, hadn't spoken a word during the whole encounter. He hadn't looked up. He wasn't even in ghost form. A thought crossed Vlad's mind: was Daniel feeding energy to Jasmine? Was he the reason that she could take corporeal form, and could display so much power? But, why? How?"

"What is he talking about?" she asked. "He killed someone?"

Daniel didn't answer, didn't look up, only pulled himself closer to his sister. Jasmine's face hardened. Vlad turned to flee, but ran into the shield around the lab he himself had activated.

"It was an accident!" he repeated. "It wasn't my fault. You weren't supposed to die!"

Jasmine's bright eyes snapped back to Vlad's. They were dispassionate and merciless.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, "and I don't really care. You made my little brother cry." The fire in her hand flared brighter. "You're going to pay for that."

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_"Mom? Dad? Oh no. No, no, no. Jazz?"_

_"D-anny?"_

_"Jazz! Jazz. I- I- Oh no."_

_"Li'l brother?"_

_"I don't- I'll fix this. I can fix this."_

_"Don' cry, li'l bro... gon be alri..."_

_"Jazz? Jazz!"_


	14. Chapter 14

**A continuation of (wishes) and (sisters).**

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Fire

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Danny touched down on the edge of the city of Dis. The literal edge. Beneath his heels was nothing but a smoky green void. Well, it looked like nothing, anyway. Danny knew Dis was currently in transit over the Fire Desert, a series of large, flat floating islands, which had the habit of spontaneously bursting into flame.

Yeah. It wasn't Danny's favorite place, either.

He could feel the heat of the floor (it was a floor, made of highly-polished brass) through the soles of his boots. If they had been made of the rubber they resembled, instead of ectoplasm held together by the force of Danny's will, they would have melted.

As it was, Danny gave his ice powers more reign, and pulled his cloak more securely around his shoulders. It had been made in the Far Frozen, from ice-worm fur, and sewn with Danny's own unmelting ice. Between that and his powers, the temperature of Dis was bearable.

He made a face and stepped forward, the ground creaking and squeaking under his feet from the temperature difference. Flight was by license only in Dis, and they took their laws seriously, according to Clockwork.

There were a lot of ghosts out on the street. Many of them had reptilian features. Others looked a lot like Desiree, like djinn, or the classical, stereotypical ifriti.

Danny wasn't sure where they were all going. The buildings to either side of him didn't have any signs, but they looked a little too uniform and utilitarian to be homes. They also were disgorging large amounts of smoke into the air. Danny put the edge of his cloak over his mouth, so he could breathe through it.

He got past the outer houses, and reached a kind of outdoor market. Where normally there would normally be cloth awnings, there were sheets of enameled metal. The air shimmered with heat, and the air was alive with voices. The stalls were stuffed brightly colored wares, all non-flammable. Danny eyed some of them with curiosity, the metalworkers of Dis were said to be supremely skilled. There was a lot of copper jewelry for sale. But he wasn't here for the market.

He came to the building he was looking for, this one was clearly a residential building. It's metal walls were brightly enameled and glazed, and it had large windows, and a pretty lacework door, with a bank of speaking tubes and a bell-chain just to the right. He pulled the chain, and heard the bell ring far overhead.

A voice came down the tube. "Who is it?"

"Phantom."

Silence. Danny waited, patiently. Desiree opened the door.

Danny raised his hand in greeting. "Hi!" he said.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just came to say hi, and see how you were doing, and, well, I was curious, I guess."

Desiree gazed at him suspiciously, then she drifted back. "Come in," she said.

"Thanks."

There were tapestries on the inside made of cloth of gold and silver, and little round tables. There were little lamps that burned with green flames. Desiree curled her tail and sat on it.

"What did you want to ask?"

"Well, um," Danny looked around. "You didn't make a kingdom, and I was kinda curious as to why. Did something go wrong?"

"No," said Desiree. She tilted her head to one side, considering Danny. "A kingdom... wasn't the point. A kingdom was never the point. I wanted it yes, but as an idea, rather than, as a fact."

"Wasn't what it was cracked up to be, huh?"

"No," said Desiree, shortly.

"But, why come here? I thought you didn't like people."

"I don't like being used," corrected Desiree. She reached over and plucked a flame from a lamp, and ran it between her fingers like a coin. "When you and your sister made that deal with me, when you kept your side of the bargain, when you made the bargain, instead of just taking what you wanted, it release me, somewhat."

"Like, you don't have to grant every wish you hear anymore?" asked Danny, just a little uneasy. That had been an easy way to defeat her, when she attacked Amity Park.

Desiree's grin was predatory. "Don't worry, child, I'm not going to bother your precious little town, child. I'm happy enough here. Did you really come to check on me because you thought my wish had gone wrong?"

"Well... Yeah."

"You're too soft for your own good, child. Go home. Don't worry about me." She flicked her fingers to the door.

Danny nodded. "Okay. If you're happy."


	15. Chapter 15

**Yes, I know, it's short, but this is what I've got. **

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Finals

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Danny bubbled in the lest letter. He sucked in his lower lip, and erased the mark. Then he filled it in again. Jazz told him not to double-guess himself. Jazz was usually right.

But what if he was wrong?

No, no. That's exactly what Jazz said _not _to do. Danny had studied hard for this test. He could do this.

He stood up, and walked to the front of the room with the completed scantron sheet. Mr Lancer took it with a little smile and nod. Danny tried to return both, but knew both were shaky. He turned, went back to his seat, and put his head down on his desk. That was it. That was the last one. He was done.

"Time out."

Danny looked up. "Clockwork?"

"You didn't think your human teachers were the only ones with tests, did you?"'

Danny groaned.


	16. Chapter 16

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Eavesdropping

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William Lancer saw nothing wrong with eavesdropping on his students now and again. It was almost part of his job description. No, it _was _part of his job description. He was supposed to supervise them, after all. He did, however, try to constrain his eavesdropping to class time. Usually, that was more than enough.

But _those three... _Their conversations...

For example:

**Danny Fenton:** Did you bring the lipstick?

**Sam Manson: **Do I look like an idiot?

William never figured out what that was about, but it made more sense than others.

**Tucker Foley: **Remember that time you swallowed your fork?

**Danny Fenton:** Yeah.

**Tucker Foley: **Can you do that with trading cards?

**Danny Fenton: **No.

**Tucker Foley: **Come on, man, we could be rich!

**Danny Fenton: **No. I don't think you could get rich from that, anyway.

But at least that was still in English.

**Sam Manson: **That homework was terrible.

**Tucker Foley:** I know, right? Especially after Ghost Writer. Danny, how do you think you did?

**Danny Fenton (face down on the table): ** Mortuus sum. Ego sum stultus.

**Sam Manson: **Um. Is the Latin by choice, or..?

**Danny Fenton: **Sic experrectus sum.

**Tucker Foley: **According to Google, that's 'It woke up.'

**Sam Manson:** I'll take that as a no. Wisconsin after school or the GZ?

**Danny Fenton: **Quod sic.

**Tucker Foley**: Yeah, sounds like a plan.

That was yet another thing he didn't understand. How and why would Daniel learn Latin? And what did Wisconsin have to do with it? GZ? Was it some kind of code?

Of course, the conversations weren't the only strange things about those three. They were just the strangest thing William routinely saw.

Sometimes, William worried about them, but whatever was going on, it didn't seem to be illegal, and he couldn't just _ask _what was going on. Then he'd have to admit that he was eavesdropper.

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**Forgive the bad Google Translate Latin. I am sadly monolingual. **


	17. Chapter 17

**This is a follow-up to 'Accident.'**

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Hands

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Danny tried to put his suitcase down carefully, gently, on the floor near the door. It still made a loud thump. Danny sighed, shoulders curving. Everything felt so heavy. He knew it wasn't. He knew that was just in his head.

He tried a smile. "Thanks for having me, Mr and Mrs Foley. This is a lot."

"It's not a problem," said Mrs Foley. "You've always been like family to us. We couldn't let you just, well. Whatever would happen." She patted him on the back. "We've got you in with Tucker on the trundle, for now. We'll work on getting you something a little more permanent."

"I could just take the couch," said Danny. He looked across the entryway to where Tucker was standing. "I don't want to chase you out of your room."

"You're not chasing me out of my room," said Tucker. The other boy walked over and grabbed the suitcase. "C'mon, let's get you settled in."

"Tucker, I can carry that," said Danny, following after.

Tucker waved him off. "I've got it."

"But the stairs-"

"I've got it."

Tucker did have it, as it so happened, getting the suitcase to the room without upset. Mr and Mrs Foley came with them, and stood outside the door.

"Will you two be alright setting up by yourselves?" asked Mrs Foley.

"We'll be fine," said Tucker. "We've done this hundreds of times."

"Danny?"

"I'll be fine. Thank you." He knelt on the floor to start pulling out trundle.

"I'm going to start dinner. Call us if you need anything."

"Okay, sure," said Tucker. Danny nodded. Mrs Foley tugged on her husband's arm, and they left.

Tucker got up and shut the door, then he sighed and sat down on the bed. Danny kept his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

"Hey, uh. You don't have to say anything, but, like, what happened?"

Danny sucked in his bottom lip. His hands curled into fists on his knees. "Vlad happened."

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw Tucker blanch.

"You mean, _Vlad _did that? Vlad- Vlad blew up your house, and, uh..."

"Yeah."

Tucker leaned back. "What are we going to- Can we even do anything?"

"We don't have to," said Danny, trying to force himself to relax. It wasn't working. "It's already done."

"What do you mean? You didn't, um."

"No," said Jazz, materializing mid-air, her arms resting crossed on Danny's head. "I did."

Tucker stifled his scream by shoving his entire fist into his mouth.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh my god," said Tucker. "Jazz. I'm so sorry. I don't- Some warning, though? Some warning would be nice? And, uh, what do you mean, you did it? What did you do?"

"I got rid of him," said Jazz, serenely.

"Ah," said Tucker. "Okay then."

Jazz looked around the room. "Do you guys need some hands? You room is a bit of a mess."

"Uh, yeah, sure," said Tucker. "Whatever. Are you- Are you like, okay, though?"

"I'm fine," said Jazz. She raised her hands, like she was preparing to conduct an orchestra. "A little confused, but fine."

"You just seem... really calm, considering everything."

"Everything what?" Jazz's hands lit up yellow, and a dozen ghostly yellow hands appeared around the room. They proceeded to pick up various things in Tucker's room, and put them in order. They even pulled out the trundle bed and made it. Then they disappeared. Jazz put her hands down and smiled. "That's better, isn't it?"

"Yeah," said Tucker, a little breathlessly, "thanks."

"You guys probably want to go now, don't you? I'll just take a quick walk outside." She floated through the wall.

A beat of silence.

"Danny?"

"I'll explain."


	18. Chapter 18

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Music

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Danny usually did better when he fought against Ember. But, usually, Ember didn't team up with Skulker, Johnny, and Kitty, and, usually, his parents didn't keep him up all night testing out a 'Ghost Whistle.' He was particularly peeved about that last. What did they even need a whistle that only ghosts could hear, anyway?

In other words, he was tired and beaten up.

Furthermore, he was having trouble even _finding _Ember. She had discovered that strategically placed speakers could be used as decoys, and had strewn them liberally around the park. His ghost sense helped somewhat, but Ember's ghostly groupies helped her confuse the matter. He'd fought three ghosts with 'Ember Rocks!' t-shirts already.

He paused, listening. He could hear Ember's voice coming from several places, but he wasn't sure which one, if any, was actually her. Heck, she could be miles away and broadcasting. What he was hearing could be a recording. He didn't know, and none of the ghosts he had caught had been particularly forthcoming. All he knew was that Ember _had _been here, in Amity, earlier today, and he could still hear her music. Which was really starting to get on his nerves. He might have had some resistance to the mind-control properties of her music, and he was wearing his Fenton Phones, but, dang, hearing the same song over and over and over and over... It wouldn't kill Ember to get some new material, would it?

"Sam," he started, voice pitched low, "I'm over by the barbecue area. I think I hear four, my ghost sense went off a bit ago. How are you guys doing?" The had agreed on regular updates before they split up.

"We're still by the entrance. Too many fans."

"Ugh. I hate it when my enemies learn strate-"

Another groupie jumped him. He ducked. This one was working hard at getting into close range. Danny didn't feel like letting him, instead flying up into clear air, away from the crowded ground. But the ghost didn't follow, and, shoot, there were humans down there! Where had they come from? Danny dove back down-

-and was jumped by the people he'd come to save. Gosh, he hated mind control. He went intangible, and phased out of the grip of the hypnotized humans.

He flew away from the humans, getting them out of the line of fire. "Hey!" he said, getting the ghosts attention as he pulled back his fist. "You want a smash hit? I'll give you one!" He shot and ectoblast at the ghost, knocking it back, and followed up quickly with the thermos.

He took a moment to breathe. Something felt wrong. His hand went up to his ear, then across to his other one. Heck. His Fenton Phones had been knocked out in the last scuffle. That wasn't any good. He was only _resistant _to Ember's music, not immune, especially when Ember there in person and wasn't trying to make him worship her. He should retreat for now, get another pair. One good thing about Ember was that she wasn't likely to directly hurt her fans.

In the meantime, he had to be careful. He didn't want to have a repeat of the first time he'd encountered Ember.

Of course, as soon as Danny thought that, all the nearby speakers shrieked into high volume. Danny pressed his hands over his ears. His ghost sense went of, giving him just enough time to get out of the way of one of Ember's musical blasts.

He shot a few ectoblasts Ember's way, "I hear you're trying to make your listeners deaf now," he shouted, "how's that working out? More people sticking around for your sing alongs?"

"Keep talking, dipstick, soon you'll be singing a different tune!" Ember's voice came out of the speakers, and, dang, that was actually a pretty good pun there.

"You should take your own advice," he shot back. "I mean, man, talk about a one-hit wonder!"

Intimidation and trash-talk were an important part of every 'friendly' ghost fight. Danny didn't really understand it himself, but the willingness to participate in banter sort of signified that there would be base rules followed, a certain sense of honor, lines that wouldn't be crossed. Apparently it was a ghost thing, though when banter dissolved into megalomaniac rants, all bets were off, and that could be a pretty fine line.

Ember scowled. "Too bad for you this isn't amateur hour," she strummed her guitar. "You're worse than the old man!"

Danny's ears were really starting to hurt. And 'old man?' Was she talking about Vlad? If he was behind this the sudden change in strategy made sense. Crud.

Apparently Vlad could read minds, because the second Danny made that realization, Vlad dropped on him from above, plowing him into the ground. Vlad's hand was around his neck, and, despite what he thought was a pretty good recovery, he was being shocked.

His body spasmed, as it always did when faced with large amounts of electricity, and he fell limp, breathing hard. He wasn't as inexperienced as he had once been, however, and he quickly tried to return the favor with his own ghost stinger. Vlad, however, had more endurance that Danny, and his response was both quicker and stronger. Danny's skin sparkled as he fell out of ghost mode.

"There, there, little badger," said Vlad, smugly, "don't worry, I just need you to sleep for a-"

"Hold it, old man," said Ember. Danny's ears began to ring in the relative quiet.

"What?" said Vlad, clearly annoyed.

"You said I could do what I wanted to him before you took him, and I heard baby pop here has a set of pipes."

"... What?" croaked Danny.

"You can't be serious," said Vlad.

"Deadly," said Ember, grinning. She materialized a microphone and shoved it in Danny's face. "Go ahead, sing."

Danny only managed a squeak as Vlad's hand tightened around his throat.

"The thing is, I do have him.," said Vlad, sneer obvious in his voice, "and I rather want to get on with my plans, if you don't mind."

"I do mind, actually. Come on, pops, it'll take, like, five minutes."

"I'll do it!" Danny got out, with some effort.

Vlad gave him a disgusted look, then ground out, "_Fine,_" and slapped what looked like a metallic, hight-tech bracelet around Danny's wrist.

Danny eyed it with disfavor. "Let me guess, it'll shock me if I use my powers?"

"Something like that," said Vlad, keeping a firm hand around Danny's other wrist.

Danny sighed heavily, and took the microphone gingerly from Ember. It squeaked a little as he breathed into it. Maybe he could make a really loud noise and startle Vlad? No, both he and Ember would be expecting that. Maybe he could pull Vlad into a false sense of security then punch him in the face and run for it? Or he could try to stall long enough for help to arrive... Although, this was pretty far from the entrance.

Current plan: stall as long as possible, hope help arrives, if it doesn't, punch Vlad in the face and run for it. Good plan.

Okay. New question, what should he sing?

"Stage fright, baby pop?" asked Ember, her grin a bit softer than usual, though her tone was still mocking. She adjusted one of the knobs on guitar, and struck a chord.

Part of Danny's mind went blank, he raised the microphone to his lips and started to sing the first song that popped into his head.

It was:

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word, papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird..."

Which was, yes, sort of lame, but, hey! It was probably the first song he'd ever learned, and at least it wasn't something _really _embarrassing, like the Ghost Busters' theme song. Besides, he could probably draw this one out for a long time.

But it turned out he didn't have to, because both Vlad and Ember keeled over halfway through the fifth verse. Despite this, whatever Ember had done to him made him keep singing. But Danny was good at multitasking. He prodded Vlad a couple of times, and, satisfied that Vlad was really asleep, searched him for the key to the bracelet. He got it off, stuck both key and bracelet in his pocket, and went ghost, still singing. He unhooked his thermos from his belt, and sucked up both Vlad and Ember.

Only then did he stop to think about how weird this was, and how he had segued into 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." He really, really hoped that Ember's thing would wear off soon, and that knocking out people by singing at them would be a power he could turn on and off. He did like to sing in the shower, after all.

He sighed internally. Best make the best of this, anyway. He could go get Ember's groupies while they were unconscious. If they were unconscious. While he could make them unconscious. Whatever.

Luckily for Danny, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz had managed to keep their Fenton Phones in, so they hadn't been affected, and finding the rest of the groupies was way easier. On the other hand, because of the singing, he had to communicate to them in mime. Jazz was not good at mime.

This was followed by trying to get all of the hypnotized fans into less awkward or dangerous positions (at least three of them had made it into trees.)

All the while, Danny couldn't. Stop. Singing. He was beginning to hate the sound of his own voice.

Before it could quite get to that point, however, his voice got scratchy and hoarse, then disappeared. He was still mouthing words to songs.

"How are we going to fix this?" asked Tucker, after they had found a relatively secluded place in the park to hide.

"How did you fix it last time?" asked Jazz.

"Well," said Sam, blushing, "it was kind of different last time."

Danny pointed at Tucker, and mimed putting something on his head.

"You want to use the brainwashing helmets? Does the school even have those anymore?"

"I think you should try the first way first," said Tucker, leaning forward and grinning. "I mean, it's just the shock, right?"

"What _was_ the first way?" asked Jazz again.

"I know you want to," said Tucker.

Sam glared at him, then practically jumped on Danny. Danny literally felt his heart stop. Mercifully, his lips stopped too.

"Oh," said Jazz.

"So," said Tucker, "was it a shock?"


	19. Chapter 19

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Trap

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It was obvious it was a trap. Correction: it was _pathetically _obvious it was a trap. Only an utter moron would look at the current setup and not immediately think 'trap.'

For one thing, the 'bait' was lying directly in the middle of the street. Then, the street, and all nearby cross-streets, had been cordoned off for nonexistent construction, and there were a number of large, white, unmarked vans arrayed on said street. Finally, all the windows with line of sight to the bait had mysteriously acquired identical, band-new sets of white blinds.

Given this data, you could come up with two coroollaries.

1) The GIW, also known as the Guys in White due to their sartorial choices and the true meaning of the acronym being classified, was full of utter morons.

2) Danny was _also _and utter moron, because he was about to fall for the trap _despite _seeing it for what it was.

Why would he do something so monumentally stupid? Well, it turned out that the 'bait' was, in fact, a seriously injured ghost. Ignoring her as she bled ectoplasm onto the asphalt was not something he could do.

He also couldn't spend too much longer waiting, trying to plan, because sooner, rather than later, the GIW would notice him floating up above the street, and they had those flying scooter things. Also, jets. Also, long range weapons. Also, he was worried that the woman would bleed out. Ghosts were harder to permanently damage, harder to damage at all, but Danny's understanding was they were prone to sudden cessation of existence if they accumulated too much damage, more so than humans.

He chewed his lip. It was just so _obvious. _Not just that this was a trap, but that it was a trap for him, for Phantom, specifically. They probably had all sorts of things set up down there, again, for Phantom specifically.

For _Phantom _specifically. Not Danny. That could be it.

He flew, invisible, to a place just outside of the obvious cordon. After checking the area invisibly, ad making sure there were no GIW agents immediately nearby, he returned to human form. Still invisible, he walked to the first construction sign, and hid behind a narrow tree. There was one of those white vans parked there.

The GIW probably had machines that could detect ghost energy, but he didn't know how good they were. Most detectors couldn't pick him up when he was in human form, but some, like his parents, could. Especially when he was using his powers.

What if he could get a distraction? He could ask Jazz, Sam, or Tucker. They'd probably, almost certainly, help, but he didn't want to put them in the position of being in trouble with the GIW. The GIW were scary.

Maybe... Maybe he could get a duplicate? He'd just need one, and it wouldn't have to use too many powers, just enough to get the GIW focused on it, instead of on anything human him might be doing.

But making duplicates was hard. Still, nothing ventured nothing gained. He backed off. He would have to be in ghost form to make a duplicate, and he didn't want to switch again here. He got back to the secluded spot, checked for agents again, and went ghost. He dropped his invisibility. He could do this. He could duplicate. He just had to do one, get one duplicate.

His body went liquid and malleable. It stretched at the shoulders, rippled, and _split. _

Danny blinked with four sets of eyes, two staring into two. Then he smiled. He had done it. He was hardly ever able to do it! He circled himself. Yeah. That looked good. That would pass as him. He switched his original body back to human.

"You think you can handle them all for a few minutes?" asked Danny, unnecessarily.

"Yep. Ready for whenever they notice me."

"Gotcha."

Danny, both of him, re-assumed his invisibility, and went back down to the road. Ghost Danny went ahead of human Danny. If the GIW could pick up his ectosignature, they'd pick up the duplicate first. And, as the duplicate drew level with that first car, they did.

As Danny had more than half expected, the doors of the van rolled back, and a plethora of large, unwieldy weapons emerged. The duplicate zoomed off, trying to make it look like he was going towards the woman. The agents ran after him, and the windows opening onto the street shattered as the agents in the buildings opened fire.

The real Danny followed a safe distance after. The agents were shooting so much ectoplasm that the sidewalk was starting to glow. There was no way he was going to show up on their detectors like this.

He waited a bit longer for his duplicate to fly off, drawing away most, though not all, of the agents. Still invisible, he walked to the woman, eyes carefully on the ground. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. Tripwires, maybe. Ectoplasmic mines. Chalk circles with runes. Whatever.

He actually spotted all of those. The chalk circles were the wrong kind. The ectoplasmic mines were poorly hidden. Most of the tripwires had been tripped by poorly-aimed blasts from ecto-weapons. He got to the woman and stopped.

If he had been in charge of this, he would have put the biggest, best trap on the woman herself. Then again, if he had been in charge of a trap like this, he wouldn't have sprung it so early. He checked the woman over. He couldn't see anything attached to her directly, but he could see that she was starting to melt, which was _not _good. He couldn't wait any longer. _She _couldn't wait any longer.

He backed up as far as he could possibly go and still have the Fenton Thermos reach her, then he aimed the mouth at her and pressed the button. He turned and ran immediately.

It took way longer than it should have for the GIW to notice that their bait was missing. By that point, Danny was already out of the trap.


	20. Chapter 20

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Ink

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Danny liked exploring. Exploring led him to lots of interesting places. Of course, exploring was also dangerous, especially in the Ghost Zone, so Danny liked to go with someone else, even if that someone else was Ghost Writer, who Clockwork was basically blackmailing into tutoring him. It was funny how life (and afterlife) worked sometimes.

Ghost Writer had announced when Danny had shown up that day, that he needed to go buy 'supplies,' and that he had to cancel. Danny hadn't wanted to leave after taking so much time to get there, and he wanted to see what kind of 'supplies' Ghost Writer was getting, and said that he was going to go with Ghost Writer. Ghost Writer hadn't been terribly happy about that, but he had given in.

"If you come with me," said Ghost Writer as they walked through his lair, "you'll have to follow certain rules. Or I'll leave you, Lord Clockwork or not."

"Okay," said Danny.

"First, while we're there, you stay with me, and follow my instructions."

"Fine."

"Second, you don't touch anything."

"Like, anything anything? What if someone gives me something? Or if it's something I need to touch? Like a door."

Ghost Writer groaned. "I suppose, if you're given permission by the _owner, _you can touch it."

"Cool."

"Third, don't talk to anyone. Actually, just don't talk."

"What if I have to talk to you?"

"Fine. You can talk to me, but keep it to a minimum."

"I can do that. So where are we going?" asked Danny cheerfully.

"The Artist's Alley," said Ghost Writer.

"And what do you need to get?"

Ghost Writer sighed. "Ink," he said. "I need ink for my printer."

"Okay. Cool. But why are we going _deeper _into your lair?"

"I have a second door," said Ghost Writer, irritably. "It opens to the Alley."

They rounded a corner and reached said door. Ghost Writer, lips curved deeply downward, went through first. Danny followed closely behind, and was awestruck.

The 'Alley,' was a large tube covered on all sides by what looked like nothing so much as the most colorful Saturday Market he'd ever seen. It was neon bright, and full of tents and floating doors. There were all sorts of arts, crafts, and supplies on display. There were paints, and paintings, wirework, and jewelry. There were little blown glass bottles decorated with beads, and journals made of pressed, patterned leather and pretty paper. Danny flitted back and forth across the corridor Ghost Writer had dragged him down to, wanting to look at everything.

Ghost Writer grabbed him by the back of the shirt, and pulled him back.

"I said, stay with me. I don't want you to destroy someone else's work."

Danny flinched. "I never meant to destroy your poem," said Danny, quietly, "and you got another one, didn't you?"

"I wouldn't have _had_ to replace it if you were actually careful or at all responsible with your powers," said Ghost Writer. "I don't want to get in a fight, so stay still."

Danny pouted, but the surroundings really were too interesting for him to do that for long. "So, do people sell their things, or is it just a display?"

"I wouldn't be coming to get printer ink here if it was just a display," sneered Ghost Writer, although it was somewhat halfhearted, softer than usual.

"Is there like, money? Or do you have to trade with stuff?"

Ghost Writer stopped, and looked at Danny with some disbelief. "Have you never bought anything?"

"Not _here,_" said Danny. "I live in the human world, mostly, remember?" He did not add that teaching him ghost culture things was Ghost Writer's job. Ghost Writer could probably fill that in on his own, he was good at _subtext _after all. He suppressed a snicker.

"Individual Realms have their own currencies," said Ghost Writer, resuming forward motion. "As do some other communities, this one included. Whether or not a ghost will accept those currencies depends strictly and solely on the ghost in question. Otherwise, yes, a barter system is used. There are certain trade goods which are always, or almost always, accepted. Gold and silver, high-grade energized ectoplasm, ghost ice-"

"Ghost ice?" asked Danny, surprised.

"Yes," said Ghost Writer. "Properly constructed, it never melts, and is useful for a number of things. I couldn't properly describe most of them, but-"

"I can do ghost ice."

"You? Please. Ghosts with core temperatures low enough to even begin to master ice are vanishingly-" Ghost Writer looked over his shoulder, and came to a halt.

Danny was forming an ice crystal between his two cupped hands. "You were saying?"

Ghost Writer grumbled under his breath, and continued on.

"I mean, I don't know about _forever, _but they don't melt unless I want them to."

"Yes, yes, and now you can make money from nothing. Wonderful."

"_I _think it's cool," said Danny. "Do you want one?"

"No."

"What are _you_ paying with?"

"Poetry, if you must know," said Ghost Writer. "_Some _people actually appreciate my work."

"Okay," said Danny. Then he pointed at a tent that had 'Inkmaster' written on it in large, black letters. "Is that it? Is that the place?"

Ghost Writer sighed heavily. "Yes."

They walked in. The tent was mostly stocked with glass and plastic bottles full of black and multicolored liquid, but there were also rectangular and patterned inksticks and cakes, and there was a large stack of printer cartridge boxes in the corner. What really caught Danny's eye, though, were the paintings. They were all smooth black ink on white paper, graceful lines and the illusion of depth.

"Wow," said Danny, floating nearer. "These are cool."

"Don't touch anything," said Ghost Writer, sharply.

"It's fine," said the old-looking ghost who sat in the corner of the tent, long beard tossed over his shoulder. "You like my paintings?"

"Yes," said Danny. "They're very nice. How'd you do it?"

The ghost grinned, and rolled up his sleeves. "How about a demonstration?"


	21. Chapter 21

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Anniversary

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Danny leaned over the railing above the stairs and watched Vlad closely, face carefully blank. He had learned, painfully, not to broadcast emotions, not to be open, not to be predictable, when Vlad was around. Vlad was dangerous, both to Danny and his family. He was older than Danny, more powerful, more experienced, smarter, or at least wilier. Vlad's Obsessions made his goals predictable, but his methods weren't, and every time Vlad had seriously, directly, fought Danny, Danny had lost. Badly.

On the other hand, Danny was more than proficient at disrupting Vlad's plots. He had trust, access, and allies where Vlad didn't, and, although he still couldn't be in two places at once, he wasn't under as much scrutiny as Vlad was, what with Vlad's numerous adult obligations.

Also, Danny could always tell his parents about Plasmius, Phantom, and half-ghosts. That threat had, thus far, kept Vlad from going too far.

Danny sighed, and rested his chin on the railing. Vlad looked up, and met Danny's eyes. The man smiled, and gave him a little wave.

Danny rolled his eyes, and walked away, shutting himself in his room. Unfortunately, Vlad could be in two places at once, and one of the places he was, was in Danny's room. Danny scowled, momentarily forgetting his earlier resolve.

"Dude. This is my room."

"I know, little badger," said Vlad, smoothly, "I know. And, interestingly enough," he continued, smiling slowly, "your parents have offered to let me use it while I stay here."

Danny suppressed a blanch. "I'm sorry, while you what?"

"Oh? Didn't they tell you? Well, I suppose the buffoon wouldn't remember, and Maddie _can _be charmingly scatterbrained at times."

Danny crossed his arms, and leaned back against the door. Danny wouldn't give Vlad the satisfaction of making him ask again.

Vlad's smile grew thin, and twisted. "This week is the anniversary."

Danny raised his eyebrow. "Of what? Their's is in October."

"Of their first 'success' with a ghost portal," said Vlad.

Danny actually flinched. "They- They _called_ it that?" he asked, sympathetic against his will. Then realized something that made it worse. "You mean it's your, um, your deathday?"

"My what?" asked Vlad, not quite sneering. "My _deathday?_ Goodness, Daniel, you have quite the imagination. We aren't dead."

Well. There went that sympathy. Most of that sympathy. At least half. Or maybe a quarter. Some of it, anyway. Maybe _Vlad _hadn't died, but Danny was quite sure he had.

"Whatever," said Danny. "That doesn't explain why you're staying here."

"Why, because they invited me to help them with their _current _project. To celebrate, and for old times' sake."

"Current project being?"

Vlad practically _beamed._ "Why, an expedition to the Ghost Zone, of course!"

"Great."


	22. Chapter 22

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Community

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Danny was confused. This wasn't unusual. He was often confused. There was a reason his friends, family, and various acquaintances all called him 'clueless.' But, usually, those people weren't just as confused as he was.

"I'm sorry," said Danny, pleasantly, no need to be rude, after all. He'd learned his lesson from Ghost Writer and the Christmas fiasco. "Could you, um," he edged out of the closely packed crowd of Casper High students, dark purple grass crunching under his feet, "could you run that by us again? I don't think any of us quite caught that."

"Of course!" said the ghost, beaming. "We have brought you here to strengthen the ties of friendship between our communities!"

"Our communities being Amity Park and..?"

"The Hollow Country!" said the ghost.

"Cool." None of the other students spoke up, they were still too scared by how they had gotten here. "And how are we going to strengthen those bonds?"

"By participating in traditional Harvest Festival activities!"

"You mean, like, trick-or-treating?" asked Danny.

"Yes, among other things," said the ghost, nodding vigorously. The ghost did this by raising and lowering his detached head. Ectoplasmic blood bubbled from the stump of his neck. "Such as, for example, singing, dancing, carving pumpkins, making food, eating food, drinking, the lighting of candles, games of divination, and the telling of stories."

"And, er, what may we call you?"

"I am the Green Knight," said the ghost. "You may call me such."

That sounded _sort of_ legit. Still. "All of the ghosts who are in this, um, community. They're okay with this?"

"Certainly," said the Green Knight.

"And," said Danny, finally remembering where he'd heard 'Green Knight' before, "you aren't going to dare us to behead you with an ax or anything, and then behead us?"

The Knight chortled. "That's my favorite story, but, no. I give you my word, no harm shall befall you here. You are under my protection, and when the dawn comes, you will be returned."

"Returned to Amity Park?"

"Correct."

"And your word, what's it on?"

"Suspicious, aren't you? Alas, that we must sometimes be such to survive. I give my word on the black river, and my honor as a knight."

Danny scanned the man's face, and didn't detect any sign of deceit. He turned back to his classmates. "I think we're probably safe," he said.

The incredulous looks on their faces (sans Sam and Tucker's) said they didn't agree.

"Hey, if nothing else, you'll never forget this Halloween, right? Best Halloween party ever, right?"


	23. Chapter 23

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Scream

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It was heartbreaking, that scream. It was tortured, confused, and young. So, so young. It went on, and on, and on, and it echoed in every corner of the Ghost Zone, rippling the very fabric of the Infinite Realms.

It wasn't ignored. Many ghosts set out to look for the source, they were dead, or deathless, or neverborn, not soulless, not without compassion. But the Realms were Infinite, home to a thousand thousand miracles and twice that many curses. They did not abandon their search, so much as they were distracted from it.

In any case, no one connected the apparently permanent portal in the Wastes to that scream. Why should they? It wasn't a logical leap to make. Nor, immediately, did anyone connect the scream to the young halfa. Such creatures were rare, and few knew what went into their creation.

The little halfa had been dead for well over a year when the connection was made _for _them, when they pushed him to far and he _screamed. _It wasn't just the power behind that scream, that attack, that pushed them back, it was the memory. Where sympathy did not drive them away, did not dissuade them, it was fear.

Because if he could shake the Ghost Zone with his voice while he was still forming, what would he grow into?


	24. Chapter 24

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Galaxy

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The first time Danny went stargazing outside town after the Accident, he was awestruck. Yes, that was the correct word.

Ghost eyes could open so much wider in the dark than human ones, and could detect so many more shades of darkness. Away from the lights of Amity Park, Danny could see. He could see _so much. _He could see so many stars, he could see the sweep of the Milky Way, and the colors of the planets. He could see _U__ranus_. He had never been able to see Uranus with his his naked eye before.

He pulled out his star map with shaky hands. He could see Pluto. That was Pluto.

Oh gosh, that was amazing, this was amazing. Danny had never even imagined-

His breath caught in his throat. If he could see _Pluto, _what else could he see? There were things that were visible to the naked eye that were _so_ much farther away. His eyes weren't even properly dark adapted yet. He went ghost and floated up, eyes scanning the horizon. He was looking for something that had just barely risen.

There.

Andromeda.

Bigger than the moon, pale and shrouded compared to all the stars but so _bright. _So beautiful, so colorful.

Other, more distant galaxies faded into focus as his eyes became more accustomed to the dark. Between those and the stars, it was like the sky had been studded with jewels. No, that was too weak a description. It was full of fire of a thousand, thousand colors. Light and glory just barely hidden.

He lost track of time as he watched the sky spin overhead. The only thing grounding him was the thermos held loosely in his hands. He had been angry at the ghost that had led him out here, who had forced him into an hour long chase, but now he felt peaceful. At ease. It was hard to feel anything but.

There was part of him that wanted to fly up, lose himself up there, among the stars, planets, and galaxies. There was another that wanted to go home. Between the two of them, Danny was more than content to float, suspended.

He didn't notice how patterns appeared across the surface of his suit, stars on the black, swathes of dust and nebulae swirling across his white boots, belt, and gloves. Brighter spots burned in his hair, and to any but himself, his eyes flared like stars.

He didn't leave until he saw the blush of dawn in the east, and had to fly home.


	25. Chapter 25

**Couldn't resist tying this in with Mortified. Sorry.**

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Theory

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Once upon a time there was a place called Theory. It was what was known in the Ghost Zone as a 'community.' Not cohesive enough to be a Realm, and more than a single shared lair, communities were fairly common.

Theory was a science community, one of the best, though not the oldest. It's first residents had come together with the advent of the scientific method, by the expedient of simply moving the doors of their lairs next to each other. Others had joined them, and together they built things, both inside and outside their lairs. Experiments and displays of proficiency were the order of the day.

But there was something _rotten _at Theory's core.

Not all scientists were good people, after all, and driven by Obsession, some of the residents of theory cared only for advancing their knowledge. It came to a head in the late forties and fifties, after the wars, and there was a war, and there was a war, and there was a war.

There was a war.

The works of Theory were shattered. The islands crumbled. The towers fell. Those sane and able moved their lairs away, new communities forming around bands of refugees. Only the mad, desperate, or trapped remained, nothing more than lairs and broken stones.

Nothing more, but for one, last crooked tower.


	26. Chapter 26

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Laughter

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The bell jingled as one of Dora's handmaidens pinned it in Dani's hair. It was one of many, and they rang every time Dani turned her head.

"There you are, love," said the woman.

"Oh, you look so pretty, Danielle," said Dora, pressing her hands together. "I'm sure that the boys will be asking to dance with you all night long. You won't have a chance to rest."

Dani giggled. "You think so?" She twisted to see the handmaiden. "Thank you," she said, quickly.

"I know so," said Dora, tilting her head imperiously so she could look down her nose. Her facade cracked a moment later, and the princess hid her laugh behind the palm of her hand. "Let's see how your brother is doing, shall we?"

"Oh my gosh, yes," said Dani, standing in a swish of silver and charcoal silk. "Is he going to have bells, too?"

Dora's smile grew. "Of course. You two have to match, after all." Her eyes grew misty. "This is my first ball. It has to be perfect."

"I'm sure it will be," said Dani, bouncing down the hall alongside Dora. "But when you say _match, _how matching do you mean?"

Dora stopped, floating by a door. "He's going to be wearing a suit," she said, eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Aw. I wanted to see him in a dress."

"I could arrange that for later," said Dora, "I am in charge here."

"Really? Cool. Yes, I want to see that."

Dora smiled, and knocked on the door. "Can we come in?" she said. The door opened quickly, revealing a bowing manservant.

"Your highness," he intoned.

"Gerard," said Dora. "Thank you."

"Hi," said a very small voice from deeper in the room.

That was Danny, sitting very stiffly in a chair, half-surrounded by mirrors. He was wearing a neat suit in the same colors as Dani's dress. There were bells tied in his hair, too, little round ones.

Dani burst out laughing. Danny blushed green.

"Thanks a lot, Dani," he said, pouting.

"Sorry, it's just, you look so cute," she said, doubled over in the air, "and _no shoes, _oh my gosh, the bells. And the _bow."_

Danny blushed harder. "I just haven't put them on yet, and it isn't a bow, it's a bow tie. That's different."

"Is it, though? It looks more like a ribbon."

Danny was glowing green. "Okay, okay, it's a ribbon." He tugged at one end of the offending article. "It looks good on you, that dress."

"Thanks, you look good, too. Even if you do look really funny."

"Danielle," said Dora, faintly disapproving. "Really. There's nothing funny about what you're wearing, Sir Phantom. It's a classic look."

"Yeah," said Dani, now a touch embarrassed herself, "sorry. Honestly, it was your expression, more than anything."

"I know," said Danny, picking nervously at a bit of embroidery, "I'm just not used to wearing anything as fancy as this. There's a lot more, um, decoration, than I'm used to."

"Well, yes. Modern human styles are so plain." Dora sniffed. "Here, stand up, let us see you."

Danny complied, his bells jingling as he did so. He bounced, ringing them even more. "The bells are kind of fun, though," he said.

"Yes," said Dora. "You look nearly perfect."

"Only nearly?"

"Yes, you aren't Danielle, after all, Sir Phantom."

That got a surprised laugh from Danny. "Well, I'm not done yet," he said.

"I suppose," said Dora tilting her head. "We will leave you to it then. Gerard." She nodded at the manservant, and swept out of the room. Dani gave Danny a quick wave before following after.

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"Dora looks really happy," said Danny to Dani.

"She does," said Dani to Danny. "I'm glad this worked out."

Danny and Dani were standing by the back wall of the ballroom, conversing over a pair of champagne flutes (filled with fruit juice, drugs had weird effects on halfa biology and they didn't want to risk it). There were probably two hundred ghosts in the room, not counting the little blobs that floated along the ceiling.

The styles of the day were 'formal' and 'anachronistic.' There were ballgowns and suits, but also flapper dresses and vest-cloaks. There were a couple of boys with leather jackets, and even a girl in a miniskirt. A good number of people were dressed in robes. Most of the costumes incorporated a number of different human time periods, or were simply fantastic. Regardless, everything had a certain air of elegance to it, no matter how odd the combination should have been.

Danny let his eyes roam over the party, lingering for a moment on the band, which was composed of elements as diverse as tubas, zithers, lyres, clarinets, and theremin.

"Hey," said Danny, realizing what was missing, "do you see Sydney anywhere?"

"Huh. No. That's weird," said Danielle, floating up a bit. "Oh. He's next to the stage. Why's he there?"

"I don't know."

The band stopped playing after a moment, and Sydney floated up onto the platform, fidgeting with his tie. "Hello," he said. "Hello," he said more loudly. "I'm Sydney Poindexter, and I'm not very good at telling time."

Silence.

"I've been standing down there, you see, you know, awkwardly, as you do. I was waiting to come up here, and do this comedy skit. But the band kept on playing, and I'm way too shy to say anything to anyone, of course. And finally, Greg looks over there, and says, 'Sydney, what are you doing here? Your bit doesn't start for another half an hour.' Of course, I've been standing there for two hours, so I say, 'Why didn't you say anything earlier? I've been standing here like a fool!' And Greg says, 'Well, Syd, I can't help how you stand.'"

This time, there was laughter.

"I didn't know Sydney was doing comedy," said Dani.

"Neither did I," said Danny.

"Greg should be the one doing this, honestly."

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Dora surveyed the room, smiling. Yes, this ball had been a success. She located Dani and Danny. What better addition to the silver bells, than the bells of laughter?

Her eyes drifted back to Sydney. He was doing very well. Perhaps she should offer him a more long-term position? It would be good to have someone closer to her own age in the castle, and he could help modernize the kingdom.

And, alright, so she liked him, too. He was smart, he was funny, he was cute, and his sepia coloring was delightfully exotic.

She hid a laugh at his next joke.

Yes. She would invite him to stay.


	27. Chapter 27

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Medicine

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The pills were still in the plastic cup. The water next to them hadn't been drunk. Maddie sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She could feel another headache coming on.

"Danny," she said. Her son, wrapped in blankets, didn't respond. "Danny," she repeated, more loudly. She rapped on the glass wall of the containment unit.

This got a reaction. The pile of blankets on the cot shifted, curled, and uncurled, before Danny finally sat up, shedding blankets. "What?" he asked, eyes briefly flashing green.

Maddie swallowed back her revulsion. Danny tended to withdraw even further when she let those feelings show. "You have to take your medicine."

"No." Danny started to tuck himself back into the blankets.

"Danny, you need to take your medicine, or you won't get better."

"I'm not sick," said Danny, voice cold and flat. Ghostly.

"I know it seems that way, sweetheart, but that's the ghost talking, tricking you. It's affecting your judgement."

"The only way I'm taking those is if you come down here and shove them down my throat."

There was the ghostly aggression, so completely unlike the real Danny. Maddie shoved away her hatred for the ghost who had done this to him. Showing it would, like her earlier revulsion, do absolutely no good.

She couldn't believe she had missed this for so long, couldn't believe she had missed all the signs of that ghost, _Phantom,_ exerting its influence, taking over Danny. It was a miracle that Danny had fought it, and the unnatural fear of Jack and Maddie it engendered, off long enough to tell her and Jack, even if he seemed incapable of acknowledging that the ghost was _other, _alien to himself. That's how deeply the ghost had wormed it's way into Danny's psyche.

With some effort, she and Jack had managed to trick Danny- no, the ghost- into the containment unit, and they had been trying to remove the ghost ever since. They had initially tried the Fenton Ghost Catcher, but that had... mixed results. Dangerous results. They had come up with an alternative that _should _work, should purify him, should release him from the ghost, should safely purge the ectoplasm from his body.

But only if he took the medicine she had made.

"Danny, please."

"No."

Maddie bit her lip. "Danny, you're forcing me to do this."

"Oh, yeah, how horrible. I'm making you do something you don't want." He turned over so he was lying on his stomach. "Do your worst."

"Danny-"

"I'm not crazy, and I'm not being controlled. You just won't believe me because you don't want to admit that you're wrong."

"Danny, please. Just take the medicine."

Danny didn't deign to respond.

"You're not leaving me a choice here."

Maddie clenched her jaw and hit the button beside the door. There was a hiss as a sedative gas was released into the containment chamber. Maddie hated doing this, but she didn't have a choice. She counted to ten, letting the gas cycle out of the chamber, before she opened the door. She picked up the cup of pills, and alked over to where Danny lying, immobile, on the bed.

She started unwrapping the blankets. She suspected he had wrapped himself up out of spite more than anything else, to give her more work. She shook her head. His frustration was understandable, and she knew his behavior wasn't his fault, but she wished he would be more cooperative. This was difficult for all of them.

She uncovered his face, and propped his head up on her knee. That's when he moved. Faster than should be possible for a human being, he was up and over her, and out of the containment unit. He slammed the door behind him.

"Danny!" shouted Maddie. She ran to the glass, slamming her hands on it.

Danny glanced back, but continued to the portal control panel.

"Danny, don't do this!"

Danny kept hitting buttons. The portal doors slid open.

"Please! We're just trying to help you!"

Danny turned back on the portal threshold. Maddie didn't miss how the mists of the portal seemed to reach out and stroke him.

"I love you," he said. "Goodbye."

He stepped back.


	28. Chapter 28

**Warning for abuse.**

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Puppet

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The newest addition to Circus Gothica curled in the corner of the train car, rocking back and forth. The other unwilling performers watched him with concern. He wasn't the smallest of them, that was Green Kid, the dwarf, but he was obviously significantly younger. The ghosts might be under Freakshow's control, but they still retained their personalities, and were even allowed to express them, when Freakshow wasn't around.

"This isn't right," said Green Kid.

Goliath shrugged his massive shoulders. "'Snot like we can do anything about it."

"He's not like us," he said. "He's not from the Circus."

"Doesn't matter. He is now."

"No," said Elastica, joining the conversation for the first time. "He isn't." She approached from where she was standing in the opposite corner, and crouched down so that she was at the same level as the young ghost. "We're mostly fine, but that's because we like the circus. We've always done the circus. We're performers. He isn't."

She edged closer. The young ghost was whispering something under his breath. It was all but unintelligible.

"He's got a different Obsession," said Green Kid.

Goliath hissed. "We don't talk about that. Not here."

It probably didn't matter. Even if Lydia was mute, she could still tell Freakshow about things like Obsessions, and Freakshow himself possessed a lot of knowledge of the supernatural. Still, they didn't like talking about ghost things where he could hear. Some things should stay secret, should stay private, shouldn't be given to humans.

"Too young," said Elastica. "Hey. Kiddo." She frowned, wracking her brain for his name. She might have heard it, when they were fighting a couple of days ago. "Inviso-Bill?"

The ghost looked up, red eyes flaring in fury. "That's _not_ my name."

"What is it then?" asked Elastica, carefully. Most ghosts were touchy about things like names.

"Phantom."

He really was young, if he thought that literally calling himself 'ghost' was a good idea. He was probably _new, _as well. Taken together, he wouldn't be very good at regulating his Obsession, which would be... Honestly, Elastica didn't know what it would be. She hadn't a lot of experience with children. Bad, probably.

"I'm Elastica," she said. He'd forget. He'd forget several times, before adjusted to what the staff did to him. "That's Goliath and Green Kid."

"Hi," said Phantom, dubiously. He blinked hard, and rubbed his eyes before going back to muttering. "Go to the train, get in, stay there, go to the train, get in, stay there, go to the train, get in, stay there, go to the train..."

"Hey," said Elastica. "You're here, it's okay. We'll help you out. We're all friends here."

"Friends?" asked Phantom. Tears welled in his eyes, their red inner light reflecting from them weirdly. "Friends?" He hiccuped. "Where-?" His irises started to bleed green. Elastica jolted back in shock. "Where am I? Where are my friends? I want-"

There was a thump. "Enough!" shouted Freakshow, staff in hand.

Phantom's eyes quickly went red again, all of his attention fixed on Freakshow. Elastica's focus pulled that way as well, but she had mastered the skill of pulling herself back, dissociating, letting herself just watch, without connecting to what Freakshow was making her do. All three of them had learned how to do that. They would go insane, otherwise.

Freakshow strode farther into the room, stopping in front of Phantom. He hit the young ghost with the end of the staff. "Get up, ghost."

Phantom, shaking, slid up the wall, leaning into it. Freakshow shoved the orb on the end of the shaft into Phantom's face, hard enough to make the back of the boy's head hit the wall with a crack. Phantom's eyes were wide, reflecting the orb's swirling glow.

"What is this about 'friends?' Explain."

"I want... my friends. Want... I... want my friends... Please." His voice was stilted, words halting. "My friends." Something green flickered in the back of his eyes, even with the orb right in his face. "I need..."

"What friends?" demanded Freakshow.

"Sam... and Tucker. They're my best... friends." There was that hiccuping sound again.

Freakshow sneered. "You're a ghost," he said. "Ghosts don't have friends. _You _don't have friends."

"My friends-"

"You. Don't. Have. Friends. Get that through your head. Repeat it a few times."

"You don't have friends, you don't have friends, you don't have friends."

The train car would have been silent except for Freakshow's breathing, anyway, but the silence was so, so heavy. Freakshow smiled slowly, and his smile was sick and cruel.

"You're right. I don't have friends, but I don't need them. I have puppets like you, isn't that right?"

"That's right."

"Now, tell me all about how you don't have any friends, because you're a ghost, puppet."

"I have friends."

Freakshow seized Phantom by the collar and threw him into the center of the car. Ghosts were light, almost weightless, so even someone like Freakshow could do that with ease. Phantom got to his feet again, still following Freakshow's earlier order.

"Dance for me, puppet."

Phantom began to dance. He was... bad. Pathetically bad, actually.

"Repeat after me, 'I am a ghost, I have no friends.'"

"I am a ghost, I have no friends," said Phantom, a little breathlessly.

"Again."

"I am a ghost, I have no friends."

"Good. Now keep doing that." Freakshow turned to Elastica and the other ghosts. "As you can see, our newest act isn't exactly what we'd call a great dancer. Every time he does something wrong, hit him. Oh, and you, dwarf," he said, sprawling into a throne-like chair, "get me a drink."

.

"I think that's enough," said Freakshow. He had changed his orders to the ghosts a few times at this point, and had occasionally stopped them so that he could interrogate and harangue Phantom. Elastica braced herself for new horrors. "We want him to be in top shape, tonight." Freakshow laughed. "He'll be very busy, after all, starting with the evening show."

Freakshow got up, and walked to where Phantom had collapsed on the ground. The young ghost had been beaten black and green, ectoplasm seeping from already-healing cuts.

The end of the staff hit the boy in the stomach.

"What do you say to that, puppet?"

"I am a ghost," Phantom said hoarsely, "I have no friends."

Freakshow's face twisted in displeasure. "No, no, no. Not that. _What do you say?" _

The ringmaster dropped the end of the staff on one of Phantom's hands. The ghost squeaked.

"Y-yes, master."

"Very good! There might be hope for you yet." Freakshow walked out of the train car without another word.

Phantom, meanwhile, pulled himself across the floor until he was back in his corner again.

"Phantom-" started Elastica.

The young ghost responded with a weak hiss.

"Don't bother," said Green Kid. "He's barely knows what's going on. He's not going to trust us after that."

"Kid," said Goliath. The giant's hands were shaking. "He was really insistent 'bout his friends. What if- What if they were _it? _Like, you know."

"Then he'll fade. It'll be kinder than this."


	29. Chapter 29

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Vein

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The veins of Danny's wrists showed blue against his pale skin. He dropped his arms back to the bed. He sighed, staring up at the ceiling. Had he been dreaming? He had weird dreams when he was sick, and his dreams had gotten weirder overall after half-dying. On the other hand, this was the first time he'd gotten sick since said half-death, and he really didn't know how that was going to affect him.

He really should have been more wary about Sam's cold. Even from the entirely mundane side of things, he really couldn't afford the missed days of school.

He sneezed. Once. Twice. Again. He wiped his nose with a tissue, and blew, hard. He looked at the the tissue. Tucker thought it was kind of gross that he did that, but he had once heard that the clarity of snot could show how sick you were. That probably wasn't true, but it had become a habit. He frowned at the tissue. Was his snot... glowing? Gross. He tossed it into the overfull wastebasket by his bed.

Gosh, he hoped his snot wasn't glowing. That wasn't exactly a giveaway when it came to his secret, but glowing and subtlety didn't go hand-in-hand.

At least it wasn't as bad as having his _veins _glowing. Which is what he thought was happening earlier.

He adjusted himself on his bed, pulling his comforter up to his chin and rolling onto his side. He wanted to go to sleep. Sleeep. Sleeeep.

He woke up covered in sweat, blankets tangled around his limbs. The room was darker than it had been before. The veins of his arm shone bright and green against the shadows and his almost-white skin. He quickly hid his hands and face under his blanket.

Crap.


	30. Chapter 30

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Glass

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The glass bottle clinked as Desiree put it on the counter. She curled her long hair, snake-like, and sat on it, so she could view the bottle at eye-level. The little ghost in it was sleeping. Well. Unconscious would probably be a better description.

She smiled toothily. It was rare that she got a wish that she actually wanted to grant, but when she had heard Ember and Skulker grousing about Phantom... The exact words had been _"I wish Phantom knew what it was like to get shoved in something like his stupid tiny thermos"_ and _"Yeah, I wished he knew how _we _feel in that stupid thing."_ Still, Desiree didn't see anything wrong with putting her own spin on things, tweaking the wish to suit her own needs.

Shockingly, Phantom actually looked rather cute, trapped in the bottle as he was. It was just barely big enough to fit him, especially with his elongated tail, courtesy of Desiree (Hey, Skulker had said 'we,' he didn't specify which 'we'), coiled and folded up around him several times. He was hugging it, near the end, like in one of those cat pictures that were popular nowadays.

The bartender slid up to her, putting a glass of her usual down next to the bottle. "What've you got there, Desiree?"

Desiree raised the bottle. Phantom shifted uneasily against the glass. "Just someone who vexed me one time too many." There was no risk of the bartender recognizing Phantom. She had never been to Amity Park, and the bar was far from the Fenton portal and Phantom's usual haunts.

"So, is he just trapped, or is there a curse?" asked the bartender, with interest.

"Just trapped," said Desiree, "and shrunk. He's usually just a _tiny _bit larger."

The bartender hummed. "You know," she said, "I could hook you up with someone who could seriously curse him."

Desiree only considered it for a split second. She shook her head. "No, I don't think so. Not my style."

"You like to do things yourself, I can respect that," said the bartender, nodding. "Wave me down if you want another drink." She moved off.

Desiree returned her full attention to the bottle. She flicked it with a long fingernail, and Phantom stirred. She flicked it again, and this time Phantom raised his head, yawning, showing off his tiny fangs. He blinked a couple of times, and Desiree caught the exact moment he realized his situation. He jerked back into the side of the bottle, rocking it slightly, and started to move his mouth, as if he was shouting up at Desiree.

"Ah, too bad, but this is," she flicked the bottle once again, "_soundproof._" She smiled lazily down at the trapped ghost. "No wishing yourself out of the bottle for you."

Phantom, despite not being able to hear her, must have gotten the idea, because he stopped shouting, and pursed his lips. His tail moved fitfully, slithering over itself. Then he took a deep breath. Desiree, with some amusement, wondered if he was just going to try to shout louder. That wasn't going to work. He wasn't going to get out until Desiree let him out.

The bottle exploded with a burst of sound. Desiree fell backwards, shocked. She had no idea Phantom could be so loud.

Phantom perched on the counter, entirely back to normal, legs, size, and all.

"I wish you would take me back to Amity Park, and then go back to the Ghost Zone!" he said, voice slightly hoarse.

Desiree scowled. "As you have wished it, so shall it be."


	31. Chapter 31

**Aaaaaaah! I made it! Wow. I just want to say thank you to all of you who read, and especially to those who reviewed. I'm sorry I haven't been responding to those, all my writing brain cells have been occupied with prompts, but I really like getting them, and I have been reading them.**

**Specific responses:**

**AlecGateway: I've been reading your fics on tumblr! Don't sell yourself short, they're really good. **

**MrsFrizzle: Thank you so much for taking the time to read & review these! I'm especially glad you thought how I used Sydney was fitting. **

**User724: I didn't quite think of it that way when I wrote it? It's more like, helping people is still his main obsession, but space is, like, secondary, or something? Does that make sense?**

** .106: I'm glad you enjoyed those! Honestly, for 'broken' I had a bit of writer's block and didn't want to default to angst, so I was quite worried about it. **

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Free Day

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Danny drifted into Clockwork's workshop, backpack slung over one shoulder. As he passed time screens, he looked into them, casually curious. None of the scenes they showed really captured his attention, however, so he continued on until he found who he was looking for.

"Clockwork," he said, "can I ask you a question? A couple questions, really."

Clockwork turned from the screen he was looking at, the scene playing in it coming to a stop. He smiled, growing from a child to a young adult. "Certainly, Daniel."

"When you stop time, do you stop it everywhere in the universe?"

"I do," confirmed Clockwork, "for everyone who is not wearing one of my medallions, nor is otherwise immune to my powers."

"Okay," said Danny, nodding. That's what he had thought. "But light takes time to get places, right?"

"That is correct."

Was it just Danny, or was Clockwork's smile growing? "And we only see things because light's bouncing off of them?"

"Yes."

"So how can we see things when time is stopped?"

"That is a very good question," said Clockwork.

Danny waited.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

Clockwork ruffled Danny's hair. "Now, now, I can't just tell you everything. You have to figure out some things on your own."

"How am I supposed to figure that out on my own? I'm a teenager, not a scientist."

"For now, maybe, but once you get your degree in theoretical physics..."

Danny's eyes went wide. Clockwork's smile split into a grin, and he flew off, chuckling.

"Wait!" said Danny, flying after him. "You can't just _say _that, then leave! Clockwork!"


	32. Chapter 32

**Dannymay!**

**It's been two years since I started posting fanfiction. Can you believe it?**

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Danny sucked the ghost into the thermos and landed, breathing heavily and clutching a shallow gash on his side. Fighting someone with sickles for fingernails was not fun, and it was even less fun when he first had to expel that someone from his principal's body. Luckily, however, he had left Mrs. Ishiyama back at the school and she wasn't here in this alley to see him become human again, bright transformation rings sweeping over him, changing his white hair and green eyes to black and blue respectively.

He groaned and rubbed the back of his eyes. The encounter with not-Ishiyama had begun while he was on his way to after school detention, Mr. Lancer was going to be... _unhappy _with him.

Shadows swept past the mouth of the alley as Sam and Tucker ran by and then backtracked. Danny waved at them, tiredly, with the hand that was holding the thermos.

"How did you know she was overshadowed?" asked Tucker, breathlessly while Sam bent to examine Danny's wound.

"How did _I _know? More like, how _didn't _you know? Her eyes were completely red. The whole thing!" He removed his hand from his wound to wave it in front of his face. Sam needed better access, anyway.

"What are you talking about?" asked Sam, pulling a first aid kit from her backpack. "Her eyes were normal."

"Yeah," said Tucker, taking the box from Sam so she could rummage through it without putting it on the alley ground. "She looked the same as she always does."

"What, really?" asked Danny, nonplussed. "Wait, hold up. You've seen other people overshadowed before, right?"

"Yeah? Of course we have," said Sam.

"You've overshadowed me enough," said Tucker.

"And you've never, I don't know, noticed that a person's eye color changes when they're overshadowed? That they glow?"

"No," said Tucker, slowly. "Because it doesn't. It stays the same. Otherwise it would be really easy to tell when someone was overshadowed. You'd just have to look at their eyes."

"I guess it's a power that you didn't notice was a power," said Sam. "Do Vlad's eyes look red to you all the time?"

"No," said Danny. "He looks normal. Wait, you guys can see when my eyes glow, right? When I get angry, or when I use my powers in human form?"

"Yeah," said Tucker. "We see that."

"I think this is good for now," said Sam, patting the bandages. "Fly to my place and we can finish it up, there. Unless you have something I haven't noticed?"

"No," said Danny. "You're good. And we really have to test the eye thing."

.

The wound didn't need much cleaning, and his ghostly healing factor had already started to work on it by the time he met back up with Sam and Tucker, so the bandaging was light, unnoticeable under his clothing. Which was good, because obvious bandaging tended to get his parents' attention in a bad way.

"Mom?" he called. "Dad? I'm home!"

"Hey, Danny!" called his Dad, his voice echoing up from the open door down to the lab. "Come down and see what we're working on!"

Well, that was enough to trigger a full-body cringe. Danny did not like going down into the lab while his parents were actively working on something. All too often the thing in question would attack him.

Still, he didn't like to disappoint them if he could help it, so he set his backpack down by the door and slouched tensely down the stairs. "What is it?" he asked, as he neared the foot of the stairs.

"A possession detector!" said Jack, waving a screwdriver. "We haven't come up with a name yet!"

"We only started to work on it today," said Maddie.

In theory, a device that could detect overshadowing and keep people from being taken advantage of that way would be great... unless it could also detect half-ghosts in their human form. Then it would be _not_ so great. It would also render his newly-discovered ability and advantage rather moot, so he wasn't sure how he felt about it overall.

"That's cool," said Danny, neutrally. He flexed his hands. "How does it work?"

"We'll show you!" said Jack, pulling the half finished thing off the table as Maddie _tsked _in disapproval. He dropped the thing over Danny's head like a helmet, and he stumbled under the unexpected weight, a squeak of distress escaping from his lips. Something bright shone into his eyes and he flinched back before being steadied by his father. "You see?"

"Um," said Danny. "_No._"

He heard Maddie sigh. "After examining some volunteers who claimed to have been possessed recently, we noticed that they had a much higher level of ectoplasm in their eyes than normal, even for people living in a high-ectoplasm environment. Working backward from that, we realized that the ghosts possessing them must have been physically manifesting their eyes to some degree while doing so, probably to retain their visual acuity. Ghosts generally have better eyesight than humans."

"Uh huh," said Danny. He _had_ noticed that, actually. Being half ghost and all.

He was also really hoping the machine was non-functional. Maybe it had been long enough for him to take it off without being remarked on?

"The thing is, we think we should be able to detect that layering," said Maddie. "We're trying out different wavelengths of light. The problem is, we don't want to accidentally accuse people like us, who just have relatively high levels of ectocontamination, of being possessed willy-nilly."

"Or Vladdy!" said Jack. "He's had high levels of ectoplasm in his system since college! It's why he kept having that ectoacne!"

Danny felt his eye twitch.

"You can see how that kind of thing could evolve into a witch hunt," said Maddie. She lifted the machine off of Danny's head. "See? You're getting readings like the ones we took from the people who had just been possessed, but we know you haven't been." She showed a receipt-like piece of paper to Danny, and he nodded, even though he couldn't read it. "Ours are like that, too," she finished.

"Well, it would be cool if you could get it to work," said Danny, relieved not to have to deal with his parents deciding he was possessed but also disturbed that his parents' eyes apparently contained a similar amount of ectoplasm to his. "I should probably go upstairs and work on my homework."

"Okay, Danno!" said Jack, ruffling Danny's hair. "Go knock it out!"

Danny smiled, already retreating. "I don't think you can do that with homework, Dad. It isn't like our hot dogs. It's not animate."

"Speaking of food," said Maddie, we're ordering out, tonight. "Is there anything you'd like in particular?"

"Chinese?" asked Danny, hopefully, his foot on the stair. "From the place that makes it really spicy?"

"Alright, but we're only getting one that hot. The rest of us can't handle it."

"Okay!" said Danny, jogging the rest of the way up the stairs. "I love you! Bye!"

He did go upstairs, but first went to the bathroom, not his bedroom. He stared into the mirror, and let a tiny bit of ectoplasm seep into them, a thread of glowing green circling his iris. Were his eyes really all that different than everyone else's?

He shook his head. He had homework to get to. Maybe if he did everything for English Mr. Lancer wouldn't give him another detention.


	33. Chapter 33

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Flowers

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A small plastic container fell off the lab table, scattering the small white seeds it had held onto the floor, where they bounced and rolled with reckless abandon. They '_pinged' _softly against the linoleum flooring as they did so.

"Oh, no, Jack," said Maddie, dropping to her knees in an effort to stop some of them from rolling away, "these are our only graveflower samples! Help me find them!" She pushed the ones in front of her into a small pile. "I think some of them rolled that way, towards the portal." She nodded her head at the closed doors.

"Right-o!" said Jack, carefully shuffling away from the table and the other labeled seed containers. He too, dropped to his knees and started crawling over the ground, looking for the seeds.

The Fentons had decided to take a look at more traditional ghost hunting- and even ghost _attracting- _methods, most of which had to do with plants or rituals of one kind or another. Jack had taken a look at some of his ancestors' writings, and, although the plant they were most interested in, blood blossoms, were sadly extinct, they had found a number of other interesting claims. The seeds that had just been scattered across the floor were said only to germinate and bloom at the grave or death site of a person or animal that had become a ghosts, and they were exceedingly rare.

Some of the records of them they had found suggested that the size and number of the flowers were correlated with the power of the power of the ghost, but Maddie was skeptical. Actually, she'd been skeptical of the plant's properties in general, until their passive scans of the graveflower seeds had detected tiny amounts of ectoplasm inside them.

They were hoping to get permission to plant them on the graves of people generally believed to have become ghosts. If they could get them to germinate and breed, it would be a good test, and a warning to surviving family members.

But they couldn't do that if all their seeds rolled under cabinets.

They consolidated the seeds they had found and counted them out. Maddie sighed. "We're missing one," she said.

"I'm sorry, Mads," said Jack.

"It's fine, dear. We still have more than enough, and I'm sure it'll turn up eventually." She frowned at the overflowing cabinets. "It's probably over there, somewhere." She shook her head. "We'll deal with it later."

.

(The seed had not rolled under the cabinets.)

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Danny crept down the stairs to the lab in human form. He knew his parents had been looking into ghost-affecting plants, and he wanted to know which ones and if he should be worried. He also didn't want to risk being affected by something they _already _had down there. He didn't think seeds alone would do anything to him, but what if they had seedlings, cuttings, or things like that? It was best to take the precaution of staying human.

He was relieved to find that little, labeled boxes of seeds were all that he could see. He took a piece of paper from the table and started to copy down the names.

Some of them, he had encountered before. Once they had realized that the whole ghost thing wasn't going away, he, Sam, and Tucker had tested as many traditional ghost remedies as they could, including the plants sage, fennel, rowan, mullein, and rosemary. Few of them had done anything to Danny, in either form.

Danny didn't recognize all of them, however, and the ones he didn't know were the ones he was worried about. He didn't see anything labeled 'blood blossoms,' though, so he counted his blessings. He finished his list, and tucked it into his pocket before turning to the portal.

Frostbite and the other yetis were his best bet for knowledge on ghost health, and Danny didn't think he'd get another good chance to take the long trip to the Far Frozen once his parents got really invested in this project. If Frostbite didn't know, Danny would have to rely on Tucker's internet-fu and Sam's botanical knowledge.

He pressed his thumb against the DNA reader. A soft beep indicated that he'd been accepted, and the yellow-and-black striped portal doors whirred open. Behind them, the portal spiraled and swirled, subtly reaching out to Danny. Danny glanced back at the table full of seeds, and decided not to go ghost until he was safely in the Ghost Zone. He stepped through the portal.

.

(He did not notice the seed stuck to the sole of his shoe, nor did notice when it fell off as he walked through the portal tunnel.)

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"Frostbite said that they're all harmless," Danny told his sister. "As long as I don't eat them, and it's not like Mom and Dad are going to feed us the equivalent of ghost weed. Or ghost truth serum."

"They might, actually," said Jazz, dubiously. "You know how they are, sometimes. Especially if they think we've been overshadowed. But you're sure they won't affect you, otherwise?"

"Well, Frostbite said that some of them will smell really good, but it shouldn't be a compulsion for me to go eat them or lie in them or whatever. Just a nice smell."

"If you're sure," said Jazz. "What about the ghost detecting ones?"

Danny kicked the ground to make his desk chair spin. They were having this discussion in his room. Jazz was on the bed. "Probably not going to be a problem."

"Probably?"

"It's not like they follow ghosts around like the sun. They just absorb ectoplasm in the soil. What I'd really be worried about is the one that grows on ghosts' graves, but it isn't like they're going to try and plant one in the portal, so I think I'm safe there."

.

(The seed that had fallen inside the portal began to crack open.)

.

Maddie frowned at the latest portal energy readings. Over the past week, they had been slowly, but surely, changing. It was as if there was a power drain, a slow leak, somewhere. She gazed at the portal's whirling surface. Even that looked off, the twisting pattern disrupted somehow.

"Jack," she said, "I think there's something the matter with the portal. Will you spot me while I check it out?"

"Sure thing, honey!" said Jack, putting down the grow-lamp they'd ordered for their plants and bounding over to the closet where they kept their ecto-exploration suits. He pulled hers free.

As she put on her suit, she wondered what could be causing the drain. A loose wire or tube? A ghost taking up residence in the tunnel? A bit of spectral debris? It could be anything. It might not even be something immediately visible on the surface.

Maddie shuddered at the idea of trying to fix something inside the walls while the portal was on. They couldn't just turn it off, unfortunately. They had tried that when ghosts first started coming through, but even the emergency power cutoff switch had failed to shut the portal down. The only effect was that they had lost a good deal of control over its power output, which made it much more dangerous to be around. So, they had restarted all of their containment and control procedures and had started to look into ways to _close _portals.

But it might not be an issue. There was no need to borrow trouble.

The helmet settled on the suit's neck piece with a click, and Maddie started going through her pressurization check. A small amount of ectoplasm wouldn't hurt, but she didn't want to be exposed to the amount that was free-floating in the Ghost Zone.

Besides, if there was a ghost camping out in their portal, the suit would protect her from its attacks.

Jack slid into the seat in front of the telemetry board. "Everything looks good, Mads!"

Maddie gave him two thumbs up and walked into the portal.

She was totally unprepared for what she saw.

There were _vines _curling up around the walls of the portal, meeting overhead. Roots dug into the metal plates and curled around delicate wires. Heavy, green-white buds hung between heart-shaped leaves. She realized with a jolt that she recognized them, if only from pictures.

"You okay in there, Maddie?" asked Jack over the suit intercom.

"I'm fine," said Maddie. "But I think I found where our missing graveflower seed went to."

"Huh? It's in there?"

"It grew," said Maddie. Even as she said it, she wondered how. They were only supposed to grow on a ghost's grave or death site. They had dug this tunnel themselves. No one was buried here. No one could have died here, either, this far under the earth.

At least, not recently. How far could a graveflower reach back? How far down? How far up? They had barely started their research...

"Are you sure?" asked Jack. "Can you get a sample?"

"Of course," said Maddie, removing a pair of clippers from her utility belt. She removed a branched that had curved out into the center of the portal, away from the wall.

But how were they going to get the rest out?

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**I think I might continue this one, but I'm not sure. What do you guys think?**


	34. Chapter 34

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Reflection

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Tucker passed in front of a mirror and stopped, did a double take. He'd been doing that a lot, lately, ever since what he and his friends referred to as the 'Egypt incident.' He raised one hand and traced a line under his eye, his lower eyelashes ruffling.

"You checking your eyeliner, Fol-_ey_?" asked Dash, bumping into him, rudely.

Tucker avoided stabbing himself in the eye and caught himself on the sink. He frowned at the reflection of the jocks in the mirror and scanned the locker room for Danny. Alas, his best friend must still be running punishment laps in the gym.

"Looking for Wimp-ton to save you? That's pretty pathetic," said Dash, jabbing Tucker again.

Tucker spun to face them and started to back away. He wondered if it would be okay to fight back under these circumstances, or if he would get in trouble. Because Tucker _could _fight. Maybe not as well as Sam and Danny, he was more the tech guy of their group, but all of them could throw a punch. Heck, Tucker could pull back a bow and put an arrow into the center of a target a hundred feet away. That took arm strength.

If he fought Dash, he'd probably win.

But fighting was generally frowned upon at school and with the other jocks as witnesses... Yeah, that wouldn't pan out well. His parents would take his side, but he didn't want to get a bad reputation with the teachers. _One_ of the trio had to stay on their good side. Obviously it couldn't be Danny, and Sam was too argumentative, so it fell to him.

He sighed. Well, he could take a punch, too, if it came to that. He took off his glasses and put them on the back of the sink.

"What're you doing that for?" asked Dash.

"Good glasses are expensive, Dash," said Tucker, flatly, glaring up at the taller boy. "They're also made of _glass. _I don't want to be wearing them if you decide to hit me in the face."

Dash stared down at him, as though seeing him for the first time. He humphed. "You take all the fun out of it," he complained. "Come on, guys," he said to the other jocks, leading a parade out of the locker room. Tucker sighed and looked back at the mirror.

Eyeliner, huh? Dash probably would have been surprised to find out that Tucker had thought that he'd seen eye makeup on his face. Kohl. No. Not kohl. That was a recent word, and not completely accurate. _Mesdemet _for the black. _Udju _for the green. He blinked, unsure where the words had come from.

No, he knew where the words had come from. He just didn't want to think about it.

Danny stumbled into the room, banging the door behind him. "Hi," he said, waving at Tucker. He paused. "Are you okay? You look kind of..." Danny trailed off and shrugged.

"I'm fine," said Tucker. "Just talked my way out of getting beaten up by Dash."

"What, really?" asked Danny, his eyes flickering over Tucker. "Are you sure you're fine? He didn't hit you?"

"Nope. I'm really fine."

He hoped.

.

The archery club met right after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, regularly, contrasting with the computer club, which met 'whenever' and 'online.' Usually, meetings coincided with Danny getting detention and Sam's activist stuff. Tucker thought of these afternoons as their 'alone time.' Otherwise, they were, well, not _quite _joined at the hip, but...

It _was_ a near thing.

Tucker wouldn't have minded if Sam and Danny _did _join the archery club (or the computer club, for that matter), but it could be nice to have some time away, so that he could sort through certain thoughts. Thoughts such as: _What was happening to him?_

Because he really had thought that he had thrown off the influence of Duulaman's ghost, or that weird staff, or Hotep-Ra, or _whatever_ had been going on that week, and yet, here he was, over a week later, hallucinating himself wearing Egyptian makeup, of all things.

He squared himself on the edge of the archer range and checked that it was clear. The other members of the club were working with the closer targets. Tucker thought that he would challenge himself today. He pulled back.

The thing was, at the end, when Hotep-Ra was gone, and Tucker was back to himself, he had been able to use that staff, the Scarab Scepter, to return everything to normal. He wasn't sure he _should_ have been. He had no idea how that staff worked. Yet, in that moment he _had. _

And he did look an awful lot like Duulaman.

"You're doing great today, Foley!" called the club advisor from across the range. "Are you sure you don't want to shoot competitively?"

Tucker rolled his eyes. "I'm sure!" Then he caught sight of his arrows. They were all clustered neatly in the bullseye.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Tucker was good. He wasn't, quite, that good. Not at this range. But, in the moment, as he was shooting, he hadn't registered anything as being unusual. He remembered looking at them as he was aiming, so he wasn't just spacing out.

Archery was practiced in Ancient Egypt, wasn't it? He remembered seeing murals. He remembered the sun shining down on his shoulders as his entourage...

... What?

Tucker frowned. This wasn't going to go away, was it?

.

The computer screen cast Tucker's dark bedroom in a blue light. The only sound was him typing away at the keyboard.

Tucker didn't want to worry Danny and Sam. Mostly Danny. He had enough to deal with without worrying that his best friends was going to go crazy and try to kill him. Again.

He cringed. He did not have the best track record when it came to that particular thing. Then again, neither did anyone else close to Danny.

Hence not wanting to worry Danny.

Maybe he should talk to Sam, though. Out of everyone he knew, she was the only one who'd been mind controlled in a similar way. She hadn't _said _anything about having hallucinations post-Undergrowth, but, then, she wouldn't, would she? Sam had the same reasons Tucker did for keeping quiet.

Tucker made a face at himself. It was probably a sign that their relationship wasn't as healthy as it looked, keeping secrets from each other like this. But... he _knew_ Danny kept secrets. They all did, and they were fine with it. So, Tucker or Sam keeping secrets was fine, too.

As long as it didn't turn into murder attempts. That was not fine.

Tucker slipped his fingers under his glasses to rub his eyes and returned his attention to the screen. He was researching Duulaman, and had dived deep into the academic side of the internet. He'd come up against a dozen paywalls and dismissed them all with a few keystrokes.

Duulaman. Pharaoh of Kemet. A descendant of Hatshepsut and an ancestor of Tutankhamen. He had been a fairly progressive member of his family, restoring several of Hatshepsut's monuments after other of his ancestors had done their best to destroy them, making laws concerning the treatment of slaves and foreigners, and forging peace with neighboring countries. He had been well-liked, his popularity having been attested to even years after his death by inscriptions in other graves, praying that their inhabitants would find themselves under Duulaman's rule in the afterlife. He'd been famed for his athletic and magical abilities.

Sadly, academic publications were as skeptical about magic as they were about ghosts.

Tucker rubbed his eyes again.

Duulaman had been murdered. According to his brother, the pharaoh who had succeeded him, the deed had been done by an advisor whose name and image had been systematically removed from everything.

Probably Hotep-Ra. That fit with the ghost's whole thing, and the fact that Tucker couldn't find any information on _him. _

After another relatively fruitless hour, Tucker pried himself from the chair and went to bed.

.

He turned the fine silver mirror over in his hands, contemplating its polished surface. It had been a 'gift' from a Mitanni noble, and had carried a brutal curse into the heart of Kemet, but the curse was loose, now, wound around his very soul, and the mirror itself was merely a harmless, empty vessel.

One that Duulaman could learn from. He ran his fingers along the strange symbols scored on the outer edge of the mirror.

If his advisors would stop arguing for just a moment.

"We must attack at once!" said Hotep-Ra. "This insult against the person of god cannot be borne!"

"But it is harvest season," objected another. "We cannot afford to take the men from the fields. There would be famine!"

"Hotep-Ra," said Duulaman, softly, "brother of my heart, it was not even their king that sent this. Would you raze their whole kingdom and force a tragedy on their own for the sake of one man?"

"One who attacked you and our kingdom through dread magics?" asked Hotep-Ra. "Yes, my pharaoh."

"Then perhaps it is good that I am pharaoh. I know that you love me, but I have no desire for war. Even so," he said, raising his voice, "I have sent certain persons to correct the problem, and my brother has borne a letter to the Mitanni king, explaining the situation. It is true that this assault on our kingdom cannot be suffered quietly."

The advisors took that in. Duulaman turned to the Priestess of Mut and tried not to squint. She was just far enough away that he had trouble seeing her. Sadly, none of his magic had yet succeeded in giving him the eyes of a hawk, but he yet had hope.

"What say you about the curse?" he asked.

Duulaman was a powerful priest in his own right, favored by the gods and his ancestors, but he valued other opinions. Being the focus of the curse might have blinded him to certain aspects of its function.

The priestess bowed. "It is as we first feared," she said. "It binds your great soul, so that you may not pass into the green fields of the Duat when it is your time to do so. Instead, it decrees that, when you die, you must suffer to be born into a common line, far from your rightfully exalted place."

"And for Kemet? For my line?"

The priestess, an experienced woman who had served Duulaman's father, actually trembled. "That, whence your second life reaches the age of reason, you shall understand, and you shall see the last of the Pharaohs come to ruin, all our temples abandoned save for nonbelievers, your descendants crushed or cast into obscurity, your name stricken from history, and your tomb robbed by foreigners. She dooms you to watch the slow decay."

This was about what Duulaman had expected. He closed his eyes, pained. If only he had been more careful opening the box... but he had assumed it to be from Hotep-Ra, or his brother, or one of his sisters, for it had been among other, like gifts.

"I see. Fear not. I will take care of it. Kemet shall not fall within our lifetimes."

The relief in the room was palpable. They had faith in Duulaman's power.

Alas, that it might come to naught.

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Tucker woke with a jolt, hand on his heart. He looked around wildly, relaxing when he saw the acid green numbers on his bedside clock. He was here. He was now. He was Tucker.

And it wasn't even time to wake up for school.

Wait. It was Saturday. He wouldn't have to wake up for school anyway.

Alright. So he might have, thousands of years ago, been Duulaman. Fine. He laid back down, breathing through his nose. He dealt with ghosts on a daily basis. He could deal with reincarnation. This was cool. This was fine.

He was definitely having a crisis.

Crap.

He fumbled for his phone, and hit the speed dial for Danny. Danny never slept anyway, it was fine. Besides, stuff like this was why Sam had bought him a phone (a Nokia brick, because ghost fights) in the first place. Dead people were Danny's specialty.

"What's wrong?" asked Danny, far too alert for the small hours of the morning.

"I think I might be Duulaman," said Tucker.

There was a beat of silence. "Yeah?" said Danny, confused.

"Like, I'm a reincarnation of him or something."

"Yeah?" repeated Danny. "I thought that was the whole reason you could use that staff and stuff?"

"Wait," said Tucker. "You mean, you knew all along, and you didn't say anything?"

"I thought you knew and didn't want to talk about it," said Danny. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just having weird Kem- _Egypt _flashbacks. I'm fine."

"Do you want me to fly over?"

"No," said Tucker. "I just- Am I still me?"

"I mean, you're you to begin with. You are yourself. That's like, definitional."

"Yeah, but..." Tucker gestured at his ceiling with his hand, even though Danny couldn't see it.

Danny chuckled. "You're still you, Tucker. I know Sam and I aren't always super sensitive, but... We do pay attention, you know? We'd know if you were being taken over. Maybe not right away, but..."

"Thanks," said Tucker, with only a little bit of sarcasm.

"Hey, I like to think we've all come a long way since the thing with Poindexter."

"True," said Tucker. "Hey, thanks, man. I'm sorry about waking you up."

"Don't worry," said Danny. "You didn't. I'd just caught Boxy when you called."

"Oh. That's good. Get some sleep, Danny."

"You, too. Tell me what Egypt was like tomorrow, okay?"

"Kemet," corrected Tucker. "And, yeah. Bye."

.

"What are you doing?" demanded Hotep-Ra.

Duulaman turned away from his ritual tools and fixed an un-amused eye on Hotep-Ra. "I may have made it your place to question me," said Duulaman, "but I thought I had made my decision on this matter clear. The method your faction proposed is too uncertain, too risky."

"I have made a mirror," said Hotep-Ra, "one that will recognize your soul in whatever body it should take. With it, we could search all of Kemet for you when you are reborn and then lay you properly to rest, as you deserve, before the curse comes to fruition."

"And if I should be born in lands beyond?"

"Then we should look there, too!"

"Starting all sorts of wars on the way, no doubt. Tell me, brother of my heart, what is the difference between the young man who falls in war, whose body is left for the crows, and the old man who is buried peacefully, and who will find joy in the Duat?"

"The devotion of his family!" responded Hotep-Ra instantly.

Duulaman shook his head sadly and looked back to his tools, touching them softly. He had already completed the ritual that would force the curse to carry his soul thousands of years into the future. By the time his next life reached the age of reason, there would be no pharaohs for the curse to affect. And if there were? Well, it would have been a good long time, and the curse would have weakened significantly. Perhaps even to the point of unraveling.

"No, Hotep-Ra. The difference between a tragedy and a happy ending is _time. _All kingdoms fall. All civilizations fade."

"Not this one."

"Even this one. The only questions are _when_ and _how_."

"No," said Hotep-Ra. "No. Never!"

Duulaman felt, rather than heard, the scrape of metal against oiled leather and reached for his staff, which lay across from him, on the other side of his ritual. He was too late. He had trusted Hotep-Ra too much, let him get too close, and he felt the bronze knife slide between his ribs. His eyelids fluttered as his hands groped up his chest.

He was dying.

"I will see you, in the next life," he whispered, blood bubbling in his throat.

And then he was gone.

.

It was bright when Tucker woke again.

He felt... oddly calm. It was nice to know that he had succeeded in out-waiting the fall of Pharaonic Egypt, even though the fact that it was gone made his heart shiver.

Well. He pulled his phone over, and texted Danny. _I know what it feels like to die, now,_ he said. Maybe they'd be able to bond over it. Or Danny would give him some coping pointers, since Tucker was pretty sure he'd have at least one breakdown over this. Either one would be good.

He stood up and walked to the bathroom. His reflection stared back, completely normal. No weird eye shadow, no Egyptian clothes, just Tucker and his pajamas.

Behind it stretched miles and miles of sand.

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**The Egyptian words are for real Egyptian words. Kemet is what Egypt was called in ancient times. Mitanni was a real country in the middle east that Egypt had some wars with during the 18th dynasty. Duulaman is (as you probably already know) fake and I randomly popped him into the 18th dynasty because that's the one King Tut was in. **


	35. Chapter 35

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Science

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"But how do you _know _ghosts are evil?" asked Danny, staring at his mother across the dinner table, the weight of his head propped up on his hand, the heel of it digging into his eye and making sparkling patterns. He switched his one-eyed gaze to his father. "How do you know that they aren't, like," he cringed internally at the suggestion he was about to make, "you know, those animals who wander into cities? You don't want them there, and they can cause trouble, but you wouldn't call them _evil, _would you?"

Comparing himself and other ghosts to wild animals was... uncomfortable, but he'd take anything he could get at this point, when it came to softening his parents' view of ghosts.

"Nature documentaries," said Jazz, jumping in. "Wildlife researchers. Zoologists. They study their subjects in their natural habitats, _without _killing them. Animals don't have human morals, but they aren't evil."

His parents stared blankly, and Danny resigned himself to picking at his food. It was worth a shot.

"Seriously," continued Jazz. "The only interactions you have with ghosts are the ones who come through the portal. You can't really think that's it, can you? Doesn't that skew your data a little bit."

"Jazz," said Maddie, "we knew that ghosts were evil before we even opened the portal."

"Why'd you even build it then?" mumbled Danny.

"In other words, before you even saw a ghost. You do realize how dangerous it is to form an opinion like that before collecting any data? Confirmation bias is a thing, you know, especially in psychological research."

"This isn't psychology, though, Jazzypants," said Jack. "Your mother and I both know it can be tempting to look at everything from your own specialty, but this is ectology."

"But is _is _psychology," argued Jazz. "You're making arguments about their minds."

"More people might believe you about ghosts if you had understandable data," said Danny. Hey, if Jazz was going to fight this fight, he wasn't going to let her do it alone. "Like, Jazz and I grew up with all of this, and _we_ don't get all the formulas. Other people aren't going to."

"People see ghosts doing evil all the time," said Maddie, slightly flushed with frustration. "_You _see ghosts doing evil all the time! They attack the school. They've attacked _you._"

"Phantom hasn't," protested Danny.

"He ripped your face off!"

"Mom! I _told_ you, that wasn't me! It was that shape-shifting ghost who kidnapped me!" He groaned. "You're not going to listen. I have homework I need to work on." He wasn't stopped as he pushed away from the table and trudged upstairs.

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"Maybe the kids are right," said Maddie.

"About ghosts not being evil?" asked Jack, in tones of disbelief.

"No, about people not realizing that Phantom is evil until we have proof they can understand." She shook her head. "Even the ones who were sensible after the invasion, when he held the mayor hostage, he's fooled them into thinking he's turned over a new leaf. We need to show them that isn't true."

Jack thought about that for a minute, then nodded. "Wildlife documentaries," he said. "Do you remember that one where they put cameras on the animals?"

"Oh, yes," said Maddie. "And if we couple it with the boomerang... We'll have to be careful, though and make sure Danny doesn't get hit. The boomerang does seem to like him."

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Danny flew high over the streets of Amity Park, keeping an eye out for trouble. This was mostly a pleasure fight, to unwind from the weird tension that had been building up in the house since that fight at dinner a few days ago, but he figured it might as well double as a patrol. Ghost activity was dying down as Christmastide approached, but most didn't start the Truce quite this early.

He flew over the park and flipped over onto his back, stretching. There were too many clouds in the sky for good stargazing, but the halo around the moon was interesting, and what he did see was pretty.

Something flashed in the corner of his eye, and he dropped, dodging instinctively. Whatever it was sailed several feet above him and vanished into the dark. Danny twisted to see who had shot at him.

That's when something hit him in the back of his neck. Weightless as he was, that sent him tumbling head over heels. He caught the thing dropping past him.

The boomerang, of course. His parents were out hunting. He let himself fall the rest of the way into the park. It would be easier to hide from them in the trees.

His neck itched. The boomerang had left something on it. A secondary tracker? He prodded at it with the hand not occupied with the boomerang. Whatever it was, it had wrapped around the collar of his jumpsuit. Was it a collar itself? Some kind of strangulation device, waiting to be activated? No, his parents wouldn't do that, they didn't think ghosts needed to breathe.

To be fair, they didn't. Not even Danny. Most ghosts could get on fine without their heads altogether.

Danny had never tested that one himself, though, and he wasn't eager to do so.

So, what was this?

Although it was primarily wrapped around his neck, part of it sat on the upper part of his chest, an inch or so below his collarbone. He scrunched his chin down to stare at it in the dark

Was that a _camera?_

Oh, no.

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**To be continued in 'Day 6: Stuck.'**


	36. Chapter 36

**A continuation of 'Flowers.'**

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Moon

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"Alright," said Maddie, flipping through her notes, "alright. We have to figure out how to get the graveflower out of the portal, or-"

"Kaboom," said Jack, who was still fiddling with the simulation. "We need to keep them out of the ecto-filtrator lines at least." He paused. "Maybe we should shut it down."

"But then it could escape," said Maddie. "Or grow, or shrink, or start pulling things in. Like last time. Keeping our stabilizers on is the only way to control its characteristics."

"But it would be easier to deal with that than blowing up," said Jack. "We might not have much warning if those things damage something vital."

Maddie drummed her fingers on the table. "Maybe we should evacuate," she said. "Send the kids to sleep over with friends, call up Vlad, ask him to get people out of the blast radius."

"I don't think we're quite there, yet, Maddie," said Jack.

"No, but if we haven't solved this by the end of the day, I think we should look into it. I just don't understand how it could be growing there. It can't just be the ectoplasm!" They had almost perfectly replicated the atmosphere inside the portal in one of several small containment devices and put in graveflower seeds. They had yet to react. "This shouldn't have happened."

Except that it had. Could the portal function as a 'grave site' somehow? It was at the cusp between the world of the living and the world of the dead. But, no, that didn't make any sense. If the seeds solely grew on the residual interdimensional connection between a ghost and places associated with their death, then they should have more than enough of a connection out here, in the lab, where Jack and Maddie had made hundreds of temporary portals while testing the Fenton Bazooka. There had to be something else about graves and places of death that the portal had.

But she didn't have time to go looking for what it was, because she was trying to keep the blasted plant from blowing up the portal and leveling the entire city block. It was infuriating.

She half wanted to just wade in there with clippers, but she knew how vegetative propagation worked. If they missed anything, it might just start growing again, and, being a ghost plant, it might have other defenses. Even taking that one cutting had been something of a risk, though she hadn't quite realized it at the time.

It would have been one thing to study the graveflower in the lab, or out in a graveyard, but in the portal?

She ran her finger down her notes, the boiled-down and bullet-pointed version of the graveflower legends. That they only bloomed in moonlight, or in the presence of the ghost their growing place belonged to; that they made the ghost glow like the moon in their presence; that they grew faster in the presence of their ghost; that a fruit from them could bring a man back from death's door, for a time; that they made ghosts drowsy; that the ghost who spawned them could control them. None of it was particularly useful.

The door at the top of the stairs opened. "Hey, Mom? Dad?" Danny started walking down they stairs, footsteps feather light. Maddie didn't know how he did it. When anyone else walked on them, those stairs clanged. "You guys have been down here for a while, and I just wanted to check on you. Also, um, should we order out for dinner?"

"Er," said Jack, "have we been down here that long?"

"Yeah. All day, really." He scratched the back of his head, nervously.

"Sorry, sweetie," said Maddie. "Some problems came up that we have to take care of. Why don't you and Jazz order some pizza, okay?"

"Yeah," said Danny, looking over at her. His gaze wandered to her right, and he stepped closer. "Oh, you got one to bloom. Which one is that?"

Maddie followed his gaze. They hadn't-

But there they were. The cutting she had taken earlier now hung with open, bell-shaped blossoms. They glowed, like moonlight.

They hadn't been open before. They shouldn't be open now. There was no reason for them to bloom, except...

She turned back to Danny, slowly. The soft glow of the flowers was mirrored on his skin. He didn't appear to have noticed.

"Mom? Are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting together. "What went wrong, anyway? You were working on plants, right?"

He didn't know. He didn't-

In a daze, Maddie turned to the portal. It had to be the portal. The portal had killed Danny. They had thought he'd just gotten a little shock- They'd been so happy to see the portal working, they didn't ask questions. But that would explain _everything_. Even his falling grades! Of course, as a ghost he wouldn't be able to keep up, wouldn't be able to learn new things. Except- that didn't quite seem to be true, did it?

"Mom?" repeated Danny.

He was a ghost. A ghost, and he didn't know. He couldn't know. He was too peaceful. Too- Too Danny. The imprint Danny had left must be overriding the ghost's natural inclination to violence, keeping it repeating his daily routine.

What kind of a parent was she, that she hadn't even noticed that her own child had died?

She could see Jacke behind Danny- behind Danny's ghost. He, too, had realized. She could see it on his face.

Their son was dead.

The lab shook, all the beakers and tools rattling. A few screws worked their way out of a wall panel. Something out of sight broke with a tinkle.

Out of the portal inched a pale vine, snaking around the top of the portal, reaching towards the ceiling. The surface of the portal bubbled and roiled.

Almost as an afterthought, the alarms started going off.

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**To be continued on day 10: Corruption.**


	37. Chapter 37

**Continuation of day 4: Science**

**By the way, thank you all for the reviews! Between planning stories and planning lessons, my mental energy is low, so I'm afraid I'm not going to be responding to them very much, but I do love reading them! **

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Stuck

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Danny took a deep breath. Okay. He had a camera strapped to him, and his parents were probably watching him through it right now, trying to figure out how to ambush him. Yay.

He had to hand it to them, this was inspired. If Skulker were here, he'd take notes. Or maybe not. Despite Skulker's obvious personality flaws, he did have a sense of sportsmanship. Sometimes.

If he stayed here, they would find him sooner or later. He wouldn't be surprised if they put a tracker in here, too, somehow. So, he had to go someplace they couldn't, at least not right away. Then, he could figure out how to get rid of the thing.

The question was, up or down?

Down would be faster, and have less chance of getting hit, but the sewers and storm drains weren't pleasant, and Danny didn't like phasing through solid ground very much. He could never quite shake the concern that he'd get stuck.

But he also wouldn't have to deal with things like tracking missiles, like he would if he went up, above the clouds.

Down it was.

He dropped until he was level with the storm drain tunnels, and then shot sideways. Being directly below where he was last seen didn't strike him as particularly clever, even if the camera included a tracker.

Once he'd passed through enough walls to get to a secluded and reasonably clean juncture, Danny stopped. He felt around the collar again. It seemed to have fused to his suit, somehow. No, he realized, sticking fingers into the neck of his jumpsuit, it had fused to his skin through the jumpsuit, somehow.

Gross. Why did his parents build such gross things?

Okay. First, phasing.

Extending intangibility to the device worked fine, phasing it off of himself, less fine. It was the 'phase along' version of phase-proof, then.

Next on the list was body manipulation, and- nope. He made his body warp into all sorts of horrible noodly shapes, and the device just warped along with him, flowing and misting. The only part that didn't change and twist was the camera itself.

Fine. He'd cut it off, then. It would probably hurt a lot, but he could do it. He'd endured worse than the removal of the top layer of skin from his neck and a small portion of his chest.

He summoned a blade of ice to his hand, made a mirror of the same on the tunnel wall and carefully, very carefully, began to cut away at collar. It bled green, ectoplasm trickling down to his shoulder.

It repaired itself.

Brilliant. His parents had really gone all-out with this one. It was really stuck on him.

Normally, this is when he'd reach out for help, when he'd call Tucker, Sam, or Jazz, but he couldn't exactly do that when his parents could be watching and listening to his every move.

Could the camera bit heal itself, though?

Last item on the list: just smash the camera to bits.

Wait.

Actually, wasn't this sort of an opportunity, a blessing in disguise? His parents were looking for proof that he, that all ghosts, were evil. Obviously, he wasn't going to give them that, but maybe he could show them evidence of the opposite?

Maybe he could do what he had always hoped and change their minds?

Maybe.

He couldn't really do what he needed to here, though. The risk that his parents would find him, or, worse, any ghosts that he interacted with, was too great. He'd just have to hope that the camera continued to work, continued to broadcast in the Zone.

But he couldn't use the Fenton portal. If they saw him getting too close to Fentonworks... well, he somehow doubted that the results would be pretty.

That left him a few options.

There were a number of reoccurring natural portals around town. But, he didn't really want to compromise their positions, though. Ghosts used them to get around, and not just the ones who caused trouble. Besides, none of them were open right now. He have to wait 'til dawn if he wanted one of those.

There was always Vlad's portal, but, well, as much as he liked annoying Vlad, revealing to his parents that Vlad had a portal could lead to unpleasant consequences. He wasn't nearly that desperate.

Which left... one option, actually. Oh, he knew he was going to regret this in some way shape or form.

He turned to face the warehouse district and set off.

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The warehouse district was bright with security lights and sparsely populated by late-night delivery-people and the odd security guard. Still, there were many shadows and, being able to turn invisible, Danny had no difficulty hiding.

Danny wondered how, and if, the camera functioned while he was invisible. Light would go through it, after all, and Danny didn't see in human colors while he was invisible. It would be good if it didn't work, if it didn't have some kind of ectoplasm detectors or sonar, but he couldn't _know, _so he couldn't risk it.

Which meant that he had to do this fast, before his parents showed up.

He made his way to the one completely dark building in the warehouse district: the abandoned packing plant.

Correction: the _theoretically _abandoned packing plant. It had specialized in cardboard containers, after all.

He phased through the walls (and how did the camera register that?) and his ghost sense went off. His eyes rapidly adjusted to the dark, and he rapped his knuckles against a wall. "Hello?" He called into the dark. "Boxy?" He paused. "I know you're here, I can feel you. You realize that, right?"

A mountain of boxes in the center of the room trembled and formed into an approximately humanoid shape, blue light streaming through the gaps. "IT IS I, THE FEARSOME BOX GHOST!"

"Wow!" said Danny. "You're really working on that entrance! Much better than last time."

"WHY HAS THE GHOST CHILD COME TO THE DOMAIN OF THE AMAZING BOX GHOST?"

"I need a favor," said Danny. "Well, a couple favors, actually."

This apparently startled the Box Ghost so much that he lost control of his boxes. His carefully constructed stack tumbled to the ground, the light fading. The Box Ghost himself flew out of the heap.

"A favor?! From _me?_"

"Well, yeah," said Danny. "You agreed that if I let you stay around, you wouldn't bother anybody and you'd help me with questions about ghost stuff."

"Yeeeeeees, the Box Ghost remembers," he said, tapping his fingers together. "But he did not think it would actually _happen_. Well, what have you come to ask the great," he raised his hands over his head and waggled his fingers, "BOX GHOST?"

"I need you to help me find a transient portal," said Danny. "My p- the Fentons put this, uh, camera-tracker thing on me, and I can't get it off." Danny made a face. "You'll probably want to lay low for a while, too, after this. Maybe relocate for a bit."

"Back to the _Realms_?" asked the Box Ghost, sagging.

"No, no, you can still stay, just... maybe not in _this_ building for the next little bit. You remember the other one we checked out for you?"

"Oh, yeah, in the-"

"Don't say it!" Danny took a deep breath. "They could be listening," he said. "The hunters."

"Oh, right. The great BOX GHOST is aware of this."

"So, can you take me to a portal?"

"Yeah, that's easy. Come on," said the Box Ghost.

.

The portal was a bit of a tight fit, but Danny managed. Not having bones could be useful, on occasion.

He spun slowly around, orienting himself. He knew where he was. Good. Now that he was no longer stuck in Amity Park, his first order of business was to get to the Far Frozen. If anyone could help him get this off, they could.

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**To be continued on day 11: Doctor.**


	38. Chapter 38

**Short one today.**

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Second Chance

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Danny perched on top of Vlad's fence between two huge wrought iron spikes. A gargoyle, an omen, examining the mansion before him. His elbows were propped on his thighs, and his chin rested on his interlocked fingers.

In another universe, Danny might have lived here. He might have died here.

Ever since the encounter with Clockwork, Danny had been thinking about the future. Specifically, the future that the other Vlad had described, and how that Vlad had helped him. He'd been thinking about second chances.

Danny had gotten one. Two, if he counted his maybe-death in the portal. Vlad had, by all counts, gotten several and spent them poorly.

Still... That horrible future had taken both of them to create

And Vlad had helped him. _A _Vlad had helped him.

Danny frowned. Why was making a decision about this so hard? He should want to help Vlad, should want to warn him, and he _did,_ but...

Making the first step, crossing over to that side, reaching out his hand, it was hard. Danny shouldn't have to. Vlad was the adult. _He_ should be the one being the bigger person. He was _literally_ the bigger person and would remain so for the foreseeable future.

But Vlad wasn't going to do that. He'd made it quite clear that if Danny wanted his help it would come with a price. So, Danny would have to be the one to offer.

Maybe that's what kept him perched here, stuck instead of moving forward.

He crossed his arms. This was stupid. He was supposed to be a hero.

Also, if he stayed up here any longer, Vlad would notice and probably send someone to fight him.

He flicked himself invisible and jumped off the fence. It was time to give Vlad another second chance.


	39. Chapter 39

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Lost

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Opening his eyes to a green sky wasn't terribly unusual, and Danny was feeling more dazed than usual this morning, so he decided to keep staring. That ectoplasmic swirl looked a bit like a dragon, one of those Asian ones. How nice.

Another thing that was sadly common for Danny was waking up in the Ghost Zone with no idea how he had gotten there. He wondered if it was Skulker again. If so, he could wait. It could be bad if it wasn't Skulker, though.

Maybe he should get up.

Actually, he should have done that from the beginning. But he felt so... _scattered. _

A teal-edged shadow inserted itself between Danny and the sky. "Danny! Thank goodness we found you!"

The scattered feeling was gone. Apparently, adrenaline and dismay were pretty good at pulling him together.

"Mom?" he asked, digging his fingers into the ground below him to give himself the leverage he needed to sit up. "What's going on? Why're you here?" Because, really, his mother, of all people, should not be in the Ghost Zone. Ever.

Maddie helped him up and started rubbing his back. Oh, he really was out of it.

"I'll explain in a bit, sweetie. Jack! I found him!"

Oh, no. His dad was here, too?

"Danny!" yelled Jack, and, a moment later, so did Jazz.

Danny winced. Was his whole family here?

"Are you alright?" asked Maddie. "You were closest to the explosion, that's probably going to have some side effects."

"Explosion?" asked Danny, blinking and scanning his surroundings. They were surrounded by low, rolling hills covered in grey-purple grass. It felt arid. The grass was dry, the soil, sandy. Jack and Jazz came up over one of them, jogging. It looked like they were having a bit of trouble with gravity, like it wasn't quite as strong as usual.

Danny thought about that for a minute and decided that was right. Gravity was lower here than on Earth. Which meant that someone controlled this area and was enforcing their will on it, otherwise gravity would be whatever was expected.

That was... information. Neither good nor bad. At the moment. So long as Danny's parents didn't run into this person and start shooting.

"A ghost tried to steal our portable portal invention," explained Maddie. "We were trying to do a deep clean of the lab, so we were all down there. Jack and I tried to fight the ghost off, of course-"

"But that darn specter just wouldn't quit!" finished Jack. "It kept attacking you, too, Danny! That cowardly ghost, when I get my hands on it..." Jack trailed of, grumbling and making crumpling gestures with his large hands.

"You don't remember?" asked Maddie.

"No," said Danny, rubbing his eyes with the inside of his shirt collar. He didn't. "I think the last thing I remember is going to bed."

Maddie nodded. "Can I see your eyes?" she asked.

Danny looked up at her, trying not to blink.

"You might have a concussion," said Maddie. "Do you feel dizzy? Out of focus?"

"Maybe a bit," said Danny.

Maddie frowned. "Normally I'd have you rest," she said, "but we can't do that here. We need to find a portal and get home."

"Yeah," said Danny. "So we are in the Ghost Zone?"

"I'm afraid so," said Maddie.

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Despite Maddie's fears, Danny didn't have any trouble walking, although he seconded her opinion on the concussion. His head hurt when he moved too fast.

More worryingly, he didn't recognize this part of the Zone. These arid hills weren't a place he'd been to before, nor were they instantly recognizable as a place he'd heard of.

That was troubling.

He knew his parents were worried, too. They kept having whispered conversations about how likely it was that they'd find a portal. If _Jack _was whispering...

Well, it wasn't good.

Danny really didn't want to reveal his secret, or even that he knew more about the Ghost Zone than he should, but if they didn't find a portal soon, he would. He wasn't about to let his family starve or die of thirst. As a ghost, there were options available to him that just weren't there for humans.

He just had to build himself up to it.

Jazz was making all sorts of faces at him as they walked. She was probably trying to convince him to... something. He didn't know. It was annoying and distracting.

Danny followed Jack and Maddie into the next valley, and they were surrounded. Just like that, in the space of a blink. He sucked air in through his teeth, assessing the ghosts around them.

They were... odd. Even for ghosts. Too tall. Elongated. Their skin was orange, dusted with darker, red-brown spots. They wore tunics. Their tails were long, and wrapped around the stomachs of the seahorse-like creatures that they rode.

Wow. They were _really _far from the places in the Zone Danny usually went to, weren't they?

His parents' hands twitched towards their weapons.

"Wait!" hissed Danny. "They aren't attacking." He still didn't like how the ghosts were watching them, with their solid yellow eyes.

"Yet," said Maddie, grimly.

"Well, maybe they won't if we don't attack first," said Jazz. "I don't think we can take all of them, Mom."

One of the ghosts nudged their mount forward, and began to speak.

Danny blinked. He knew that language! Sort of.

_"Pray," _he said. _"Slower?"_

"Danny?" said Jack, surprised. "What language is that?"

Danny shrugged.

_"What business have you living in our lands?"_ repeated the ghost with a faint edge of condescension. _"You, who have paid no price."_

_"We are..."_ Danny wracked his brain for the right words. _"Not knowing the place that we are?"_ He tried to mime out being lost with his hands. "They want to know what we're doing here," he said to his family. "I just told them that we're lost."

_"How came you to be here?" _asked the ghost.

"It was a... uhm... _It was a... door? In the air. We would like... a door again, and not make you angry." _Danny was not fluent in this particular ghost language.

"_You, who have paid no price? What would you give us for this?"_

Danny looked around. He didn't really have anything with him, and he rather doubted that his parents would be enthusiastic about paying a ghost. "_I can make you the cold?" _offered Danny. He suspected it might not be common here, considering how dry and hot it was.

_"Ice? Show us."_

Danny glanced at his parents.

"What does it want?" asked Maddie.

"Nothing bad," said Danny. "Just... Don't freak out, okay?" He held up his hands, and let a small diamond of ghost ice form between them.

The ghosts began to whisper among themselves.

_"Hm," _said the spokesman. _"We will accept this. One for each, and we shall take you to a portal."_

_"For each of us or each of you?" _

_"Each of us," _said the ghost, smiling.

"Danny, what's going on?" asked Maddie. "How did you do that?" There was a touch of suspicion in her eyes.

"It's, um, a long story," said Danny. "But it isn't anything bad, and Jazz knows about it. I'm not overshadowed, promise." Not the best way to explain things, but Danny didn't want to get too far into the details while negotiating. He flashed a nervous smile. "They said that they can show us a portal, I just need to make them some of these." He waved the crystal. "Good deal, right?"

The ghost made a sort of clicking sound. _"The crystals, for your payment," _they said.

"Right," said Danny, putting his hands together. He glanced at his parents again, and winced at their expressions.

So much for this going well.

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**I don't currently intend to continue this one. **


	40. Chapter 40

**Okay, I've used this as an excuse to put a weird ghost biology thing I think about sometimes into writing. Not much plot. Just three friends hanging out.**

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Glow

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"Owwww," said Danny, settling down between Sam and Tucker, thermos held between his hands.

"Are you hurt?" asked Sam, hand halfway to the popcorn she had abandoned when Danny's ghost sense went off.

"I'm fine. He just grazed me with that new sword that last time, that's all."

"Dude, that's not fine," said Tucker. "Where? I don't see anything. Maybe you can turn down your blurring."

"No, no, there's nothing you guys can do about it. He just clipped off part of my aura, that's all." Danny snuggled back into the couch, still in ghost form. "It'll grow back."

"Wait," said Sam, still frozen. "What do you mean, it clipped off part of your aura? Your aura is made of light. How can he cut part of it off?"

"Oh," said Danny, blinking. "You mean you guys haven't noticed?" Surely he had mentioned it at some point, if they hadn't.

"Noticed what?" asked Tucker. Unlike Sam, he had decided that Danny must not be hurt too badly and was now munching on the snack mix he had abandoned earlier.

"What auras are made of. Here, you've noticed that I get blurry when my aura is bright, right?" He held out his arm. "One sec, let me see if I can make this more tangible." He frowned in concentration. "There! Do you see?"

His friends leaned forward, squinting at his hand. "Are those little lines?" asked Sam. "Little... hairs?"

"Yup! That's what a ghost's aura is made of. They're like, little strings. Usually they're hard to see, because they're mostly intangible and invisible. I mean, we glow, too, but not _that _much. But stuff that's phase-proof can cut them off. It's kind of uncomfortable, but they grow back pretty quick."

Sam brushed her hand through Danny's aura. He giggled. It felt ticklish, with his aura like this.

"But, _why_?" she asked.

"It's how ghosts absorb ectoplasm from the air," said Danny. "It's like a filter. That's why ghosts flare their auras before a fight. It isn't just posturing. We're making our auras bigger so we can take in more energy."

"I'd wondered about that," said Tucker. "Still sounds like posturing, though."

"It feels like fuzzy water," said Sam. "Or like those air hand dryers in public bathrooms." She tried to pinch a strand between two fingers. "They remind me of, um, what was that, in biology class?"

"Cilia?" suggested Danny.

"Yeah, that. They hurt when they're cut?"

"Yeah. Kind of like a sunburn, or a carpet rash? Not super painful, just annoying." He let his aura die back and fade into intangibility before switching back to human with a flash of light. "Most of the time I don't use a lot of ectoplasm anyway. What I get through my skin and breathing and eating is fine."

Tucker made a face. "Don't take this the wrong way, but the whole breathing ectoplasm thing... That's kind of gross."

A grin crept over Danny's face. "Oh, ectoplasm is the least one of the least gross things you breathe in every day."

"Nope!" said Tucker. "Don't want to hear it!" He reached for the remote and turned the movie back on as Sam and Danny chuckled.


	41. Chapter 41

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Corruption

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"You- You planted them in the _p__ortal?_" Danny squeaked. The only one of the flowers his parents were experimenting with that could bloom in the portal were...

Graveflowers. Oh no.

He cast a wild look down at his hands. Sure enough, they glowed with a soft, white radiance. A sort of whine made its way out of the back of his throat. "I- I can explain," he said, backing away.

Maddie looked stricken. Jack looked- Danny twitched his head to track his father as he moved across the room to stand by Maddie. Every part of him vibrated under tension, ready to react to any threat. Were they going to attack him? Reject him? He should have been more cautious, he should have gotten rid of the graveflower seeds when he first saw them, he should have made Jazz come down instead, he-

The lab shook again. Jack and Maddie whirled to face the portal, and, for a split second, Danny contemplated running.

"It's destabilizing the portal," said Maddie.

That sounded bad.

"It shouldn't have grown this fast!" said Jack.

Oh, that sounded worse.

They both turned to look at Danny. He cringed, holding his hands protectively in front of his chest.

"D-Danny," said Maddie, her voice breaking on his name. "I think- I think this is happening because of your accident." Her voice grew steadier as she continued. "Between that, the ectoplasm, and the portal, it must-" she broke off. "According to my research, you should be able to control it."

After living with his parents for his entire life, Danny knew how to spot when they were being less than truthful. Maddie's voice was higher pitched than it normally was. He couldn't tell what she was trying to hide, though.

Maybe he was just paranoid.

"If they aren't stopped soon, they'll destabilize the portal," said Jack. "They portal will explode."

"It'll _what?_"

Forgive him for being on edge, but his parents had (possibly) just found out that he was a ghost, and they were talking about explosions.

"Explode," repeated Jack.

"But you should be able to control them, Dan-ny," she stumbled over his name again. "Just- tell them to go back. To shrink."

Ghost plants were weird, and ghostly abilities numerous, but Danny didn't think it would be that easy. Frostbite had mentioned something about 'communing' with the plant, but he had sort of tuned out after deciding it wasn't a threat because _no way _would his parents try to plant something _inside _the portal. _Except they had. _

His thoughts swirled, chasing each other pointlessly. Finally, it latched onto the danger. The danger to himself and his family.

"Go back," said Danny at the plant, trying to sound authoritative. The vines kept creeping outward, digging into the seams between the wall panels. Danny bit his lip and then grabbed the cutting on the lab table. He held it out, feeling it, the ectoenergy in it tickling his palms. "Go back," he said, more firmly. "Let go. Get back." He took a step forward, and the ground rumbled again. "This is my place. Go back."

The vines and their hanging flowers trembled and, miraculously, began to recede, pulling back through the portal's rippling surface. Danny stepped forward, following, and watched as the huge plant wrapped around itself until it was just a shrub, lying on the torn and warped surface of the portal floor.

Danny walked to it carefully, avoiding tripping hazards. He had no desire to die here again. He picked up the plant and carried it out of the portal.

His mother had sunk to the ground. Jack was half bent over next to her. She struggled to her feet as soon as she saw Danny. She hugged him, stiffly.

"Thank goodness," she said. One of her hands found its way to Danny's wrist. "I'm so glad. This was just... a bad stroke of luck, sweetie. Just a bad stroke of luck that your accident simulated the conditions for that to bloom, that's all." She patted him on the shoulders and took the graveflower. "Well, disaster averted, so why don't you, um, order some takeout for us, okay?"

"Sure," said Danny. He glanced at Jack who looked deep in thought. "I can do that." He brushed bits of bark off of himself. If his parents were going to be in denial about the whole 'dead' thing, who was he to stop them?

He escaped as quickly as possible.

.

"Maddie," said Jack, "are you sure that's a smart thing to do? If he's- Maddie, it's a ghost, just a corrupted copy, and we have- we have no idea how far that corruption goes."

"It- He hasn't done anything yet," said Maddie, barely holding back tears.

"That we know of," said Jack, his voice was broken, too, "and now... if it didn't know before... I just don't think letting it keep playing this game is a good idea."

"I don't think he knows."

"Maddie..."

"I felt a pulse," said Maddie. "When I held his wrist, I felt a pulse. A ghost shouldn't be able to do that. A ghost should be colder. Jack, I don't think he's dead. I think- I was lying, so he wouldn't know, but what if it was the truth? What if that's what's really happening?"

"That would be really unlikely," said Jack. "But we've seen more unlikely?" His voice tilted up at the end, as if asking a question. "We'll... we'll have to monitor carefully. Keep track, see if we can confirm biological functions. Make sure- Make sure Danny doesn't hurt anyone." He frowned deeply. "It might not be what you think, though."

"I know, I know," said Maddie. "I know. But- Even if he is a ghost. Maybe- Maybe what Jazz has been saying holds water. Maybe we've been looking at things wrong. Maybe he isn't corrupt, even if he is a ghost. He might not be able to learn new things, but he could be- he could still be Danny." Maddie was aware that she was rambling.

Usually Jack was the emotional one. He was shaking, too.

"That would- God, I hope you're right, Mads."

.

They watched him.

They watched him eat. They watched him sleep. They took samples whenever they could. They caught him trying to sneak out at night several times, and each time they did, he spent the day moody and anxious.

The samples didn't seem to indicate that anything was amiss... Except, of course, that Danny was hideously ectocontaminated, to the point where it shouldn't be compatible with good health. Otherwise, they looked human. His hair and fingernails grew. His body dealt with food in a normal way. He slept as a human would, deeply and with dreams.

Maddie would have liked to take that to mean that everything was normal, that the only problem was a little ectocontamination, contamination that he had adapted to, but they caught glimpses of things beyond mere ectocontamination, now that they were paying attention. His eyes flashed green when he was angry. Small cuts and scrapes faded from his skin rapidly, sometimes in a matter of minutes. Some days he would have freckles, other days his skin would be perfectly porcelain white.

It only got worse when he thought he was alone, when he didn't know they were watching through hidden cameras. Sometimes he would do things. Ghostly things. They saw him stick his arm through a wall at one point. Another time, they saw his whole body flick invisible. Once, they caught him drift down through the ceiling, asleep, on camera.

Worse, it appeared that he was aware of what he was doing.

If he was aware that he was a ghost, that meant that he was purposefully keeping it from them. He wasn't just going through his day on autopilot.

But a ghost couldn't mimic life so perfectly, and they were certain that he wasn't possessed. They had tested him in every way they knew how, and he wasn't possessed.

Just as surely, he wasn't human. He couldn't be. So what was he?

Maddie didn't know, and it was killing her.

"We need some way of watching him while he's at school," said Maddie, drumming her fingernails on the table. "While he's not in the house. Maybe then we'll be able to- to classify his behavior." They hadn't even decided if his... ghostly characteristics had pushed his personality into malicious territory.

"A modified boo-merang, maybe?" said Jack. "Tell it to maintain a certain distance from the target, instead of hitting it, and add a camera? The mark one already keys onto Danny."

Maddie nodded and looked out across the lab, not really seeing it. They had pushed aside everything else to work on this. The only part of the plants project they were keeping up was the graveflower bush, which they had planted in a five-gallon bucket in the corner. For some reason, neither she nor Jack wanted to get rid of it.

As if detecting Maddie's thoughts, the plant trembled. The flowers began to unfurl.

"Mom? Dad? Are you down here?" her son's voice echoed down from the top of the stairs. "Is it okay if I come down?"

Jack tipped his notes over the side of the table and Maddie hastened to hide her own half of the research. "Sure, Danno!" called Jack. "Come right on down!"

Danny drifted silently down the stairs. He looked more nervous than he had since he had seen the graveflower that first time.

"Mom, Dad," he said, his fingers tying themselves into knots. "I have something to tell you. I-" He glanced at the graveflower and winced. "It's about my accident. The one with the portal. I've noticed you watching me, and I think- I need to tell you how it changed me."

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**Do you guys think this is a good place to end this one, or should I do one more?**


	42. Chapter 42

**Last one of this series! Continuation of Science and Stuck!**

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Doctor

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Jack and Maddie had never been in the Ghost Zone before, and they watched with fascination as the camera they had attached to Phantom dipped and bobbed, weaving through a complex maze of impossible and decaying architecture. Really, this whole endeavor would be worth it just for this.

But they'd already learned so much more. The interaction between Phantom and the box-obsessed ghost had been enlightening, giving insight to why Phantom did not simply destroy weaker ghosts who trespassed on his territory. They hadn't believed that ghosts _could _make deals like that.

It put Phantom's fights in a very different perspective. He might be coordinating with the ghosts he 'fought' to make himself look good. After all, if he could bargain with _that _ghost, why not others?

Admittedly, that theory was a bit out there, but it was plausible.

They had also been interested to see that Phantom was aware of the camera and its function. They had designed it to bond with the ghost's body, to trick it into accepting it as part of itself. They had assumed that the ghost's mind (such as it was) would be similarly fooled. But, it wasn't. Phantom appeared to have understood the camera almost immediately and had attempted to remove it.

Phantom swooped around another twisted staircase. Maddie tapped on the glass screen.

"I wonder what he's trying to hide," she said.

"Well, we'll see it sooner or later," said Jack, cutting off a corner of his emergency fudge. "There's no way he'll be able to get the camera off." He snorted. "Even if there was a ghost intelligent enough, they don't have the equipment."

Maddie nodded. "I suppose it's just frustrating. All this time, trying to figure him out, and now we have to wait even longer." She sighed. "Him knowing it's a camera is going to skew our results, too. He'll be on his best behavior while people are watching. We already know that from his whole hero routine."

On the screen, Phantom turned a corner, and the Fentons were treated to a view of a vast, open expanse. Floating islands charted their own paths against a green and swirling sky. Clouds of ectoplasmic mist scudded along the not-horizon. Disembodied doors flew by without rhyme or reason.

The picture shifted from side to side as Phantom took in his surroundings. It stopped, lingering on an oddly skull-shaped island for several long seconds before Phantom turned away.

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Danny had known the portal the Box Ghost had shown him was close to Skulker's island, but he hadn't quite realized how close. It was a good landmark, he knew exactly how to get to the Far Frozen from here, but he didn't really want to run into Skulker.

He didn't want to deal with _any _of the ghosts he usually fought with his parents watching, and maybe listening, through the camera. They might not actively try to expose him, but a number of them were too comfortable with shouting out things like-

"I'll wrap Ember's gifts with your pelt, halfa whelp!"

Ugh. Like that.

Danny twisted and froze a tracking missile, not watching as it began to arc to his left, caught in the orbit of the staircase maze Danny had just left. He sent a few blasts at Skulker.

"I think you should find something to put _in _the gifts first!" he shouted. "Unlike _last _year. I heard you were begging MP3 players off of Technus _minutes-_" he cut off to dodge a net. He hated nets. Why did Skulker even bother with them, when he was trying to kill Danny, anyway? "Minutes before the party!"

"Like you're one to talk! You completely destroyed the party!"

"Hey, blame Ghostwriter for that one!"

"And you don't understand! You don't even have a girlfriend!"

"Well, neither will you for much longer if you don't come up with better present ideas!"

The fight had wound down into the two ghosts just yelling at each other. For all the violence Skulker regularly subjected him to, Danny sometimes wondered if Skulker actually wanted to skin him, or mount his head on a wall, or any of the other threats he belted out, or if he just wanted the thrill of the chase.

"Can't you just give me a break for once? I don't have _time _for this!"

"Oh, please, you have all the time in the world, whelp!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, what with you being a hal-"

Danny flew over and clamped a hand over Skulker's mouth. "Not another word," he hissed. "We're being watched."

"What do you-?"

Danny cut him off, pointing significantly at the camera. Skulker immediately started laughing.

"Oh, yeah, laugh it up. Wait 'til it happens to _you._"

"Ha! That is why _I, _with my modifications, am superior! Something as _ridiculous _as that could never happen to me!" He started laughing again.

"Whatever," grumbled Danny. "Are you going to keep attacking me, or can I go to the Far Frozen in peace?"

Skulker waved him off. "Consider it an early truce present!" he said. "But don't forget! I'll get your pelt eventually!"

"Sure," said Danny, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He floated backwards for a ways before turning, wary of being stabbed in the back. Or shot in the back. Or blasted in the back. Or whatever having missiles or nets launched at him from behind would be called.

But, once again, he was on his way to the Far Frozen. With his luck, he'd only be interrupted a dozen more times before he actually got there.

He sighed, thinking of ways he could block the camera in an emergency. Ice, perhaps? He could always put his hand over it, too. Maybe he should have done that from the beginning, but a part of him, the part that had argued with them before, wanted to show them the truth about ghosts. Part of him wanted them to _see. _

So, even though he kept fiddling with the camera as he flew, even though he definitely wanted it off, and quickly, he couldn't quite bring himself to cover it.

"Hey! Phantom!"

Danny turned, trying to place the voice. "Sydney?" he asked, surprised, spotting the sepia-toned specter. "What's up?" He slowed so that the other ghost could catch up to him. Sydney didn't often leave his lair on his own.

"Wow! It's lucky you came out here! I thought I'd have to go through your portal to find you." Sydney shuddered. He caught up to Danny. "I'm throwing a truce party this year!" he said, happily. "I'm inviting everyone." He handed Danny a small envelope. "It's a bit early, because I wanted to make sure that it didn't overlap with anyone else's party."

"Thanks, Sydney," said Danny, both surprised and touched. "I don't know if I'll be able to make it, you know what my l- my afterlife is like." His smile turned into a grimace at the awkwardness of his phrasing.

"Afterlife? But you-"

"I have a camera strapped to my chest right now. I'm pretty sure it's broadcasting. I don't really want to talk about it."

Sydney blinked at him. "Your existence is very difficult, isn't it? I'm glad I didn't manage to steal it from you when we first met."

"That's both of us. The shades in your lair still behaving?"

"Oh, yes. It's all fine. Thanks for asking! I've got to go deliver the rest of these! Good luck with your camera situation!"

"Yeah, stay safe, okay, Sydney?" called Danny, as they sped away from each other.

"You betcha!"

Danny tucked the invitation into a pocket. He'd have to check out the details later, when he wouldn't have to hold it at a weird angle to keep the camera from seeing it.

Now, if there were no more interruptions, he could get to the Far Frozen before- He stopped. That forest had not been there before, and, usually, the floating islands didn't move like-

_Not a floating island Undergrowth oh Ancients he looked mad run run run._

It was a good thing Danny was faster than Undergrowth. He didn't want to fight the plant ghost on his home turf... if there even was any turf underneath all those plants.

The chase (not to mention dodging and fighting off the seed bombs that Undergrowth had lobbed his way) had drained Danny, and he was flying significantly slower. The hope that he'd get back home before dawn looked distinctly forlorn. He sighed. That was just his life, though, wasn't it?

.

Maddie had filled half a notebook with questions.

Ghosts appeared to be much more complex than previously believed, even if it was clear that what rudimentary social structure they had was founded entirely on violence. The three encounters Phantom had had in the Ghost Zone thus far illustrated that perfectly.

The first, with Skulker, served as a sort of average. The ghosts had fought, demonstrated that they were more-or-less equals, and then parted, apparently not wanting a more definitive contest. The second had been with a smaller ghost who was obviously submissive towards Phantom. The third, with the plant ghost was more along the lines of what she and Jack had expected: Strong ghosts attempting to defeat and consume weaker ones.

"I wonder what this 'truce' they keep talking about is," said Maddie, tapping her pencil on her notebook.

"_I _wonder what that sound is," said Jack. "The microphone shouldn't be picking up this kind of interference."

"I think it's core noise," said Maddie. "We can analyze the sound later and compare it to his ectosignature, after we find out where he's going." She glanced at the clock. "And after we get some sleep. Everything is being recorded."

"I'll have to double check all the connections before we do this again. I bet it's a loose wire." Jack pouted.

Maddie nodded. "Where _do _you think he's going? You don't suppose he thinks he has some way to get it off?"

Jack shrugged. "His lair, maybe? The distance might be why he stays in Amity Park."

"Lairs are still pure speculation, though," said Maddie. "Although, one hypothesis _is_ that they help ghosts reform and heal, so he might think it'll get rid of the camera."

Jack grunted in acknowledgement. "What do you think that white dot is?" he asked, pointing at the screen.

"I think it's one of those floating islands," she said. "It's a different color than the others."

They watched as it grew larger on the screen. "I think Phantom is heading towards it."

"Maybe it's his lair," she said. "He does have ice powers. Ice and snow could be what gives it its color."

"It does look like that could be," said Jack.

The island grew larger and larger, and eventually the picture showed that they had been right. The island was covered with snow and more.

"I think those are buildings," said Maddie, pointing out little mounds. "Crude, but still buildings. Perhaps Phantom is trying to replicate features of Amity Park in his lair?"

"You don't think it could be some kind of," Jack waved his hand vaguely, "rudimentary ghost settlement?"

Maddie wrinkled her nose. "What would they have to gain? Why would you say that?"

"Because I think I see some ghosts moving around down there."

Sure enough, Maddie could see movement where he pointed. The ghosts were white-furred, and difficult to see against the snow, but they were there. They looked fierce. Animal ghosts of some kind, Maddie assumed, but warped over the years.

"They all look so much alike," said Maddie, fascinated. "I wonder what could have caused that."

"Well, they say form follows function!" said Jack. "Or the 'native' theory could be correct, and they formed that way, without human consciousness involved!"

"Hm," said Maddie, making a note. "We'll have to look into that again."

Phantom's hand flashed in the camera's peripheral vision. "He's waving to them," said Jack.

"Great one!" shouted one of the ghosts on the island, voice made small by distance.

"Frostbite!" yelled Phantom in return, voice much louder. He swooped down, and was embraced by the other ghost, who was much, much larger.

The other white-furred ghosts cheered. Maddie frowned.

"If he has this sort of reception here, why come to Amity Park?" she asked. "If his Obsession is attention..."

"Maybe it's human attention he wants," said Jack, rubbing his chin. "Either way, they're... enthusiastic, aren't they?"

"I can't believe they've banded together like this," said Maddie. "It doesn't make sense. The structures... they don't make sense, either. Ghosts shouldn't need things like that, especially not in the Ghost Zone."

"Maybe they're a different species of ghost that does need things like this," said Jack, most of his attention on the ghosts greeting Phantom. "We've never seen any like them here. They might only be able to exist in cold. Or they could have Obsessions related to, uh... igloos?"

"They aren't really shaped like igloos, though," said Maddie. "I think there's stone under there."

"The ice could just be dirty."

"That wouldn't surprise me."

.

Getting to the Far Frozen was a relief. Danny felt a the tension he'd been carrying within him relax as soon as he spotted Frostbit.

It _was _replaced with embarrassment once everyone started fussing over him. Technically, this was in front of his parents. Still, he'd take embarrassment over what he was feeling earlier. His core was singing that he was _safe safe safe_ among allies and friends, and the cold felt wonderful against his skin.

"What brings you to the Far Frozen today, great one?"

Danny chuckled nervously and reached back to rub his neck. The motion was stopped when he encountered the collar around his neck. "I'm actually here to see a doctor. I've got a bit of a medical problem. At least, I _think_ it's a medical problem." Danny touched down on the surface of the snow, wilting slightly as he tugged fruitlessly on the collar. "I don't really know. Can you help?"

Frostbite's eyes went wide for a moment before shifting into pure concern. "Of course, great one. We'll take a look at you right away. Unless you need to rest? We know we are far from your home."

Danny shook his head. "I want to get this fixed right away," he said.

When Frostbite scooped Danny up and put him on his shoulder, it wasn't a surprise. Neither was the short flight to the Far Frozen's medical 'cave.'

Oh, to be sure, it _was _a cave, but Danny always felt like calling it something like that, something so crude, was a disservice. For one, the entrance chamber was _gorgeous. _A huge, underground atrium with an intricately grown and carved ice ceiling, geometric patterns spiraling down the walls; ghost writing above graceful arches, indicating what each space was used for. Shining, high-tech devices that made even Tucker salivate. Some people might judge them on what lay above ground in their village, but appearances were often deceiving in the Ghost Zone, and the Far Frozen was one of the most advanced societies around.

Only an idiot would mistake the tribe of the Far Frozen for savages.

Frostbite carried Danny into the diagnosis area, set him down in a chair, and began going through the routine of cleaning his hands and putting on medical equipment.

"Oh," said Danny, leaning forward, "Frostbite, you don't have to, I know you're busy."

"Nonsense, great one! You deserve the best of care, and I am here to provide." He sat down on a stool across from Danny. "So, what seems to be the problem?"

Danny began to explain.

.

Jack and Maddie weren't talking. This is because they were in shock.

The ruins at the beginning had been one thing... Those were expected, the ghosts of buildings, so to speak, ectoplasmic echos. But this place? This level of technology- It shouldn't be possible!

"I know," said Jack, and Maddie realized she had spoken out loud. "But... it's here, isn't it? We're seeing it."

"It could be a trick," said Maddie. "A facade. There's no way any of this is actually functional."

"But if it is... Jazz and Danny, they might be right," said Jack. He sounded troubled. "If ghosts can form societies, and create technology and art like this, even if the societies are based on violence, that indicates some form of sapience, of intelligence, even if it isn't _human _intelligence."

Maddie nodded. "I think we should withhold judgement until we actually see results," she said.

"Yeah," said Jack. "Just... I feel sort of like the bad guy in a sci-fi movie, you know? The one who insists the aliens or people with superpowers aren't really human."

"It isn't the same, Jack. These are ghosts."

"But what does that even mean anymore?"

Maddie sighed. "We'll have to change our theories," she said.

"Ah," said the ghost known as 'Frostbite' on the screen, scanning Phantom with some kind of unknown device, "yes. I see what the problem is. I'll take the camera out, now, and then we can work on the other bits."

The screen went blank.

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Getting the collar removed was both easier and harder than Danny had expected. Easier, because all he had to do was take a drug and let Frostbite peel it off, harder because he had to come down off the drug before he went home, lest he get into a fight and wind up with semi-permanent injuries. At least he was able to send a message to Jazz to ask her to cover for his absence.

He didn't get home until four in the afternoon. Nothing remarkable happened on the way back, because the Far Frozen decided to send some warriors along with him to make sure he got back safely. He was a bit surprised, however, to find his parents passed out at their desks in the lab, apparently reviewing recordings from the camera they had stuck to him.

Recordings like that could be dangerous to him. Should he delete them?

No, he hadn't said anything incriminating, and they were unlikely to be able to use the footage to attack the Far Frozen. The floating islands moved, after all, and he had entered the Zone from a random portal. It should be fine to leave it like that.

He let himself turn human. The air down here was chilly. He should get them blankets or something and let Jazz know he was back, then he'd pass out himself.

While he was draping a quilt over Maddie's shoulders, he caught sight of her notebook and the last line she had written.

_The kids are right. We'll have to revise our theories concerning Phantom and the other ghosts._


	43. Chapter 43

**This is _really _the last of the 'Flowers' miniseries. For real.**

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Gloves

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"It was the portal," he started. "But-" His eyes flicked back and forth between the portal and the graveflower bush. "But I guess you probably already knew that."

"You died," said Maddie.

"No!" protested Danny, taking half a step forward. "No. Well, yes, but, I mean, I'm- I only sort of died." He took a deep breath and squared himself. "It turns out that life and death aren't as clear cut as people think. I died but... my body was _right there_, so I guess, I guess my ghost, I don't know, jump started it, and, um, fixed the whole dead thing. At least... that's what we- what I- think."

He began to hunch under his parents' intense gaze once again. They were going to say that it was impossible.

"Other people know about this?" asked Jack. "Who?"

"Sam and Tucker. Jazz. Some of the ghosts," said Danny, shrugging a little. He would have to be careful to avoid slips like that. He didn't want anyone else to get in trouble.

"You talk to the ghosts?" asked Maddie.

"Sometimes," said Danny.

"Is that why you and Jazz defend Phantom?" she asked. "Has he- has he _helped _you?" The way she said it made it sound like she was swallowing a blackberry vine.

"Um," said Danny. He fidgeted. "That- That isn't really the right question, when it comes to Phantom."

"What do you mean?" asked Jack. "Either he helped or he didn't."

"Well," said Danny. He placed his hand over his chest, over his core, fingers spread wide. "The thing is, I can sort of choose to be a ghost, sometimes. I am Phantom."

Maddie sagged slightly into Jack, who blinked several times, not saying anything.

"We'll have to run some tests," said Maddie, breathlessly.

.

Danny watched his mother pull on his gloves and braced himself. Maddie noticed.

"You don't need to be so tense," she said.

He disagreed. "Is this really necessary?" he asked. "I mean, you already checked my pulse, and I told you everything. Can't we just... leave it at that?" He tried not to glance at the ghost shield generator, poorly hidden under a sheet. Maddie and Jack both had remotes for it. In case he suddenly became violent.

Or if they decided that he was lying, after all.

"This is for your health, too," said Maddie. "It would be hard for us to treat you if you got hurt, and we didn't know how you normally are."

"I manage fine," said Danny, shifting back on the stool.

"We'd like to do better than 'manage,'" said Maddie. "We're going to take your blood pressure and heart rate, first."

The first several tests were... banal. Things that could happen in any doctor's office... although, Danny's last visit to a human doctor had been some time ago. His memories of the event were admittedly fuzzy.

Having his parents do the examination, though, latex gloves over their normal hazmat ones, that was different. That touched on so many nightmares, nightmares that had been beaten into his brain night after night, that he found himself trembling under their fingers.

"Do you feel cold?" asked Maddie, her fingers hovering over a thermometer.

"No," said Danny. She popped it into his mouth anyway.

"You _are _cold. Your temperature is almost hypothermic."

"That's normal," mumbled Danny. He crossed his arms.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," said Danny.

"Alright," said Maddie.

She walked to the other side of the lab and began taking sample jars out from a cabinet. From another draw she took out a sealed, sterilized packet. Inside it, a syringe.

"Jack," she said, "could you get the cotton swabs? Then we can-"

"No!" said Danny, jumping off the stool. This was too much. "Can't you just believe me? For once? Or- Or just turn the shield on and lock me up, if you can't. I'm not an experiment!"

Maddie and Jack both froze.

"What shield?" asked Jack.

Danny pointed, incensed, his other arm wrapped protectively around himself. Jack, still wearing a confused face, walked over and pulled back the sheet. Underneath, the shield projector was half-disassembled.

Disassembled, as in, no longer functional. Danny gaped at it.

"I don't-" he said. "But- Why all the tests? Why are you doing this? All this poking and prodding?"

"We said," started Maddie. She stopped. Turned a sample jar over in her hands twice. She put it down. "We want to understand. We want to be able to tell if something is wrong. If there's anything... affecting you."

Danny watched his parents warily. "I'm still just me," he said. "Nothing is influencing me. I don't- No more tests."

"Alright," said Jack. "We don't want to do anything you aren't comfortable with, Danno."

"We- Maybe we've moved too fast," said Maddie. "We need time to settle and to- to talk about things."

Danny gave a small nod. "Can I go, now?" he asked.

"Of course," said Maddie. She sounded hurt.

Danny's heart made a complicated maneuver in his chest, but he couldn't stand to be here anymore. He walked for the stairs as quickly as he could without running, avoiding the areas of his lab that his subconscious had labeled as threatening.

He passed by the graveflower. It's flowers tilted towards him.

He did not miss his mother's shudder.

.

Maddie sank into her chair. "He really is Danny," she said. Jack simply nodded. "He must hate us."

"No," said Jack. "He doesn't hate us. He stayed. He explained things to us."

"And we took advantage of that."

"He doesn't hate us," repeated Jack. "We all just need time." He looked around the room. "Quality family time!"

Maddie gave Jack a thin smile. "Maybe." Her eyes strayed back to the graveflower, remembering how it made Danny's skin light up, how it made him look dead. A mother's worst nightmare. "Maybe. Something without ghosts."

"Without ghost _hunting," _corrected Jack.

"You're right," said Maddie. She patted his hand where it rested on her shoulder. "You're right."


	44. Chapter 44

**In case you're wondering, I did NOT skip yesterday's prompt. I simply put it somewhere else. I wrote Day 13: Regrets as the second chapter of _the Chains of Kings, _so it's hanging out over there.**

**This story is kind of on the shorter side. **

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Breathe

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Breathing. It was so simple. Until it wasn't.

"Relax, Daniel," said Vlad, lips brushing against Danny's ear as he spoke. "Really, you're making an unnecessary fuss over all of this."

He made it sound so simple. Danny thrashed, trying to throw him off, trying to grab him. All he succeeded in was temporarily pushing himself farther under.

"You must have noticed by now that we have no need for oxygen. Why, you chased Miss Grey into space without any consideration for the stuff."

Danny wasn't listening. His lungs felt like they were about to burst. He wanted to breathe. He wanted to breathe so badly.

"Just breathe, Daniel. It's only ectoplasm. It isn't going to hurt you."

Ectoplasm might not hurt him, but Danny was reasonably confident he wouldn't enjoy it in his lungs. It was like water in that way.

"Breathe," ordered Vlad. "Get it over with. I can do this all day."

And Vlad could, or near enough to it that it didn't matter. He'd hit Danny with the Plasmius Maximus, so right now Danny was weak and painfully human.

He _needed_ to breathe, no matter what Vlad said about oxygen. But he couldn't, wouldn't breathe ectoplasm.

Again, he bucked against Vlad's restraining hand, but Vlad held firm, keeping Danny's face in the thick liquid.

"I _could _still put you in the vat or the chamber," said Vlad. "I don't have to stay here, talking you through this first breath." Vlad sighed, heavily.

A sharp crack split the air and was quickly followed by a line of burning pain across the backs of Danny's knees. Already, he'd been having trouble supporting himself; he collapsed, chest impacting painfully on the edge of the tank. A large bubble, followed by a series of smaller ones, escaped his mouth.

"Inhale, Daniel," said Vlad, sounding frustrated and bored. His grip on Danny's hair tightened, painfully. He gave Danny a little shake.

And Danny inhaled. He couldn't help it. His mind went blank with pain and the feeling of _wrong._ Liquid was not supposed to be there. His lungs spasmed, trying to expel the ectoplasm, but more just rushed back in.

Finally, he fell still, trembling and exhausted, his lungs working much harder than they usually did, but no more dead than he was before.

"There we are," said Vlad, drumming his fingers on Danny's back. "Wasn't that easy?"

He picked Danny up around the waist and tipped him into the ectoplasm tank. The ectoplasm soaked into Danny's clothes, weighing him down, pulling him deeper into the tank like a grasping hand. Even so, he kicked to the surface.

His fingers encountered something hard and flat.

Vlad had closed the lid.


	45. Chapter 45

**This is a sequel to Unearthed and Scarecrow/Grave Robber from my Ectober series. **

**A summary of those: When Danny became half ghost, he half died and left half a corpse. He, Sam, and Tucker went and buried it in a infrequently-traveled public park. The police found it during their annual picnic. A couple of detectives, Collins and Patterson, were assigned to the case, and they're trying to figure out what's going on. Danny keeps trying to convince them to stop. His corpse-related anxiety is making him do things of questionable wisdom. Ghosts do not like their remains disturbed. **

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Interview With a Ghost

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Danny slipped into the police station invisibly, trailing after the two detectives. They seemed like nice people. Good people. Dedicated people. That last was a problem. He didn't want them to be dedicated. Not about this.

What he wanted was for his body to be put back in the ground and forgotten about. He wanted his mystery to go unsolved.

The problem was, how to convince these two, and the rest of the Amity Park Police Department while he was at it, that it was better for everyone if the mystery went unsolved?

It really would be. Between Vlad and the GIW... Danny's secret getting out would have nasty consequences. But he couldn't tell them about Vlad, and the consequences concerning the GIW weren't immediately obvious without knowing the solution to the mystery.

Maybe Sam was right. He should forgo this whole 'interview' nonsense, come back when he actually had a plan. As it was, he would just give them more clues he didn't want them to have.

But if he left them alone...

He listened to them making plans to interview his human self and other students at Casper High. They were going to interview him, anyway. He bit his lip. At least, he could distract them from that. Perhaps he could make out that he was older? Too old for the students at Casper now to have known him? No, that wouldn't work. They had his body. They'd be able to tell how long it was buried. Even he knew that.

"Does it feel cold in here to you?" asked the younger detective, Patterson.

The other tilted his head, frowning. "Maybe," he said. "Phantom?"

Well, he wasn't going to just appear out of thin air in the middle of this giant room full of desks. Over half the police in town had to be there.

Some of them must have noticed Detective Collins question, because there was a wave of whispering, and the room began to fall quiet.

Despite being invisible, Danny felt very exposed.

"If you're here," said Patterson, raising her hands, "we just want to talk. Will you talk with us?"

"It doesn't have to be here," said Collins. "We've got private rooms. We can talk there."

After a few tense seconds, Collins began to walk away.

They're right over here. Interview rooms. They're actually pretty nice, not what you usually see on TV."

With some reluctance, Danny followed. He _could_ just leave.

But that wouldn't accomplish anything, except, perhaps, to make them more suspicious of him.

The room was indeed nicer than Danny had expected. The floor was carpeted. The walls and furniture were wood. There was a mirror, a one-way window, on one side of the room. Danny wondered if the purpose of the room was to lure interviewees into a false sense of comfort.

He blinked at the one-way glass a few times, adjusting his vision so he could see what lay beyond. As expected, it was rather crowded. It looked like a good number of the other detectives had squeezed into the booth.

"You realize," said Collins, out of the side of his mouth as he situated himself in a chair, "that if he isn't here we'll look like idiots, right?"

Danny sighed, heavily, and the detectives stiffened. He faded into invisibility. "You aren't idiots," he said. Then he remembered what he had come here for. "About this particular thing."

"Ah," said Patterson. "Well, thank you for coming and doing this interview."

"Yeah," said Danny, crossing his arms, "about that. I could do without the peanut gallery." He nodded towards the mirror.

"The-" Collins glared at the mirror. "Oh, for the love of god. Patterson, can you clear them out and get Captain Jones? He's the only one who should be here for this."

Patterson rolled her eyes but left the room.

"Well," said Collins. "While we're waiting for her to get back, let's make ourselves comfortable. You can sit down if you want."

"I'm fine," said Danny. He watched as Patterson started shooing people out of the room behind the glass and the captain walked in.

"Alright, that's okay. I'm not sure we've been formally introduced. I'm Detective Collins. My partner is Detective Patterson."

"I know," said Danny. "You're the homicide team. Well, this, me, it wasn't a homicide. Okay? So you don't need to do this."

Collins spread out his hands. "I'm not going to pressure you to talk about it," he said. "I gather that ghosts don't like that particular subject. But we have to investigate any suspicious death we come across. And yours? It's pretty suspicious."

"I'm telling you, it isn't. It's just dumb," said Danny.

Patterson came back into the room. "Hi," she said. "I'm Detective Patterson."

"Yeah," said Danny. "I know."

She leaned up against the wall next behind Collins. "So, what should we call you?"

Danny shrugged. "Phantom, I guess," he said. Was that an unsubtle attempt at finding out his real name? "Look, I know that you want to know who I am, and how I died and all that, but I'm not here to talk about that."

"Then what are you here to talk about?" asked Collins.

Danny closed his eyes briefly. "It would be dangerous if you knew those things. I want to talk you out of it. I'm sorry I left my body in a public placel. If you want me to do community service to make up for it, I will. But I'm not planning on pressing charges, and there's not anything else that would come of looking into it. Like I said, it was an accident, and not one that's going to happen again."

"Because you'll make sure of it?" asked Patterson.

"No," said Danny, annoyed, "because it was freak chance. One in a million, or even less. Most ghosts aren't sticking around to avenge their deaths." Revenge was a boring Obsession, Vlad's notwithstanding.

Okay, so maybe the portal accident wasn't quite as 'one and done' as Danny was claiming, but that was _why _he didn't want anyone to know about it.

"So, why is it dangerous to know about?" asked Collins.

Danny puffed his cheeks out. Why, indeed. "It's dangerous to me," he said, finally. "If you haven't noticed, I have more than a few enemies, and there is a reason ghosts don't like to talk about their deaths."

"So why don't you tell us?" asked Patterson. "We're not going to tell anybody."

"No, but you'd have to confirm it, and people would know," said Danny. In retrospect, this was a pretty good cover for why he didn't want his manner of death to be investigated, and he'd come up with it on the spot! Well, he always did do better under pressure.

But just as Danny started to pat himself on the back, Collins sighed. "Phantom. What happened to you wasn't 'just' an accident. Half of your body was missing."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "It looked pretty whole to me," he said. "All three times."

"According to our ME, it only weighed about half what it should have," said Collins, leaning forward.

Static filled Danny's brain. Half. Half the mass gone. Stop. He already knew- It was not time to panic.

"So?" asked Danny.

"There was also a lot of ectoplasm in the body," added Patterson.

"Well, this _is _Amity Park, and I _am _a ghost."

"More than it should have gotten just from you handling it."

"What, and you're suddenly an expert in ectology?" scoffed Danny. It was a good thing he didn't sweat in ghost form.

Patterson leaned forward, stepping away from the wall. "Were you killed by a ghost?"

Danny blinked. "No," he said. "That's stupid. Ghosts know better than anyone that someone dying doesn't necessarily mean they're gone." He rubbed his eyes. "This was a bad idea. You're not going to listen to me." He turned to go.

"Wait, Phantom," said Collins. "Just one more question, please."

Danny glowered from his position near the ceiling. He'd been just about to go through. "What?" he ground out.

"Is the reason you don't want anyone to know that you're dead because..." he paused, apparently searching for words, "because no one even knows you're missing? Because you're still trying to live your life? Because you're pretending to be alive?"

Danny's very alive heart hammered in his chest. "That's more than one question," he said.

He vanished.

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**I will be writing more of this.**


	46. Chapter 46

**Continuation from yesterday!**

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Bones (Interview With a Ghost, part 2)

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"Well," said Captain Jones, over the intercom, "that answers that question."

"Not really," said Patterson. "It doesn't really explain all the ancient China stuff. We didn't even ask him about that."

"I think it does, actually," said Collins, tapping his fingers on the table. "If he didn't want people to know that he'd died and was continuing to live his human life, what better way to throw them off the trail than by mimicking a old legend like that?"

"But the Fentons said it wasn't well known," said Patterson. "Who would have known about it when the Fentons first showed up?"

"It certainly narrows down the list of potential..." Collins groaned. "What do we even call this? Victims? Suspects? Possibly dead people?"

"Before you two get too tied up in semantics," said the captain, voice coming through the intercom again. "We have some things to discuss. My office."

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Collins and Patterson weren't the only ones assembling in the captain's office. Captain Jones had called Molly, the medical examiner, in as well. She sat on the chair in front of his desk, a stack of papers in her lap.

Jones shut the door behind him and locked it. "Alright," he said, rubbing his face and sinking into his chair. "So, before you called me in to watch that interview, I was talking to Molly. She told me some interesting things about Phantom's body. I assume you've already told these two what you've learned."

"I've gotten a little more, since then, actually," said Molly.

"Go ahead, then," said Jones.

"Well, at this point we're pretty sure that the cause of death is electrocution... Or we would be, if it wasn't for the whole 'only half a body' thing he has going on." Molly sighed. "He has electrical burns on his bones. They're black in spots."

"Ouch," said Patterson. "What a way to go."

"Yeah. Let's not bring it up to him, okay?"

"It might be a way to figure out it's him, though, make him break cover."

Captain Jones cleared his throat. Collins and Patterson turned to look at him, expectant.

"That brings us to the bones of this matter, so to speak," said Jones.

Collins suppressed a twitch of his lips. The captain liked puns, but admitting that one found them humorous could be hazardous. Mainly because it would result in more puns.

"What is that, sir?" he asked.

"Do we _want _to expose Phantom? Assuming that he is masquerading as a living person, something I'm not entirely convinced of. Especially considering your mention of legends and 'ancient China stuff.'" The captain circled the words with air quotes. "Care to explain?"

"The Fentons believe that Phantom is the same ghost as one that shows up in a bunch of legends around the world," said Collins. "We were going to look into them, next, but Phantom showed up."

"So, in other words, there's some evidence that he's, what, hundreds of years old?"

"I suppose," said Collins.

"Which would mean that's someone else's body. Because there's no way it's that old, right, Molly?"

"Not unless all that ectoplasm in it preserved it, somehow," said Molly. "I wouldn't entirely discount that, by the way. I'm not an ectologist."

"And everyone who is, is a suspect because of the ectoplasm and the body's age," put in Patterson.

Captain Jones cleared his throat. "As long as that's not the case," he said, "that means that, if Phantom is playing at being alive, he's doing it with someone else's life."

There was a pause, the words heavy on the air.

"You don't think he actually killed anyone, do you, sir?" asked Patterson.

"No," said the captain. "I don't. But it's something we have to consider, because if it _is _the case, then we have an obligation to reveal him. But if it isn't... What do you think will happen if we reveal Phantom and he leaves? If he's just continuing his- his 'life,'" again his hands came up to make quotes, "and he's not hurting anyone, there's no reason to reveal him, and many reasons not to, including the safety of the city."

"There is a reason to reveal him, even then," said Patterson. "If he's lying about it being an accident. If he was murdered. Or if the accident wasn't as out there as he wants us to think it is. I mean, he's a teenager. They don't just drop dead for no reason, and, well, Dave's wife had a point."

"You mean with her comment about abuse," said Captain Jones.

"Yeah," said Patterson.

"If it helps," said Molly, "there aren't any other detectable signs of abuse on his body."

"There's another issue," said Collins.

"Yes?" said the captain.

"What if Phantom decides to object to our line of questioning more physically?"

"You mean, if he attacks us?" asked Patterson.

Collins shrugged. "He _is_ a ghost. And a kid. And we're putting a lot of pressure on him. I don't think any of that is conducive to rational decision making."

"I guess we can't argue that he isn't violent," said Patterson, making a face. "But what can we do? We can't definitively say what's going on."

Captain Jones glared at his desk as if it had offended him. Maybe it had. It was a horrible mess.

"We need to keep investigating," said the captain. "But I want you, all three of you, to be circumspect. We need a different explanation for why you're asking questions."

"Why?" asked Patterson. "Phantom already knows."

"Because of his 'enemies.'" Air quotes again. "We don't know who they are, or the real reason he's so anxious to keep everything quiet. We don't even know if he's talking about humans or ghosts. And," said Captain Jones, after a significant pause, "I don't want the Guys in White to get wind of this at all. They can have that corpse over _mine, _you got it?"

.

To Collins' great relief, the captain had chosen to deal with the Cult Division (aka Cameron Daily and his computer) himself, which left him and Patterson free to strategize on other fronts. Specifically, to whittle down which children they should interview, how they should be interviewed, and whether or not it was possible that any of them were Phantom.

"If he can shapeshift, then he can shapeshift," grumbled Collins, massaging his temples. It was far too early for this, and he'd been here until midnight yesterday, getting paperwork together and sending for class lists from the school. They'd had to explain why they wanted them. "His body type could be anything." He reached for his coffee. He was almost out.

"But," said Patterson, "we have his body. The body types match."

"He could have changed over two years," said Collins. "Teenagers usually do. He could have, I don't know, simulated a growth spurt in his human disguise, or whatever."

"Still, he couldn't have changed _that _much, not while escaping suspicion," argued Patterson.

Collins grunted. "Maybe," he agreed.

"And he's got to go to Casper High, he gets to ghost attacks there too fast for him to go to school anywhere else."

"Mhn," said Collins. "Sure, I guess."

"Has to be someone who's been there for two years, because of when everything started. So it can't be and of the freshmen or sophomores. Has to be someone who's an incoming junior or senior."

"Or someone who graduated last spring," said Collins.

"You're right," said Patterson. She tugged on the end of her braid. "That might complicate some things. Still. I think these are the most likely candidates." She pushed a list of circled names and pictures across their shared desk. "We can interview them today."

Collins glared at it, the way he glared at everything that wasn't coffee at this time of day. "Patterson, I thought we were doing interviews with kids to find the conspiracy theory kid."

"Well, we can do that, too, and ask around to see if anyone's been acting ghostly."

"Fine," said Collins. He squinted. _"'Wesley Weston?'_ Dear god, who names their child that?"

"I don't know. It's better than some celebrity baby names that I've heard of," said Patterson, shrugging.

Collins put the list down and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "What was the theory again, anyway?" he asked. "That Phantom was the Fenton kid?"

"Daniel. Yeah. I've got him circled, here." Patterson tapped on the list.

"Do you think there's any merit to that?" asked Collins. "The Fentons _are _ghost hunters. You'd think they'd either notice and stop hunting him, or, well, you know."

"It would explain the ectoplasm, though. And maybe the electrical burns. They're inventors, too, and that thing on their roof has to have some kind of fancy wiring."

"That would be-" Collins wracked his brain for a suitable adjective and came up empty. He shook his head. "I don't think we can make that conclusion from a forum post you barely remember, Patterson. It sounds good, but-" He shook his head again.

"But it is pretty unbelievable. I still think we should ask him."

"Just like that?"

"Why not? You saw how he reacted to _your _question yesterday. His poker face needs work."

Collins' desk phone rang. He picked it up. "Detective Collins speaking," he said.

"Hey, this is Molly."

"Yeah? You have something new for us?"

"The body is gone."

"What?"

"Phantom's body. It's gone. I think there's been a break in."

.

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**I tentatively plan to continue this for day 25: Break.**


	47. Chapter 47

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Childhood

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Children tend to imitate the adults around them, especially those whom they admire. Mannerisms, personality traits, hobbies, and style are all up for grabs.

Does that change for children who are dead?

Why, yes.

The tendency grows _stronger_.

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The changes were small, at first. Small enough that Danny didn't even notice them. No, Tucker was the first one to say anything.

The specific thing he said was: "Hey, Danny, can you turn back for a second?"

Danny, who had just then returned to human form in the safety of Tucker's attic raised an eyebrow. "Okay?" he said, complying. "What's up?"

"Your hair," said Tucker.

Danny ran his hand through the mentioned body part. "What about it?"

"It's longer," said Tucker, reaching up to tug on a lock.

"Huh," said Sam. "You're right, it is."

"Longer than what?" asked Danny.

"Than when you're human," said Sam. She grinned. "Want me to cut it for you?"

"No," said Danny. "It isn't bothering me yet, and I don't want an undercut."

"I _can _do more than undercuts," said Sam.

"It is sort of weird, though," said Danny. He dropped back into human form and collapsed into one of Tucker's beanbags.

"Anyway," said Tucker, "how was your trip to the Far Frozen?"

"Oh, it was great," said Danny. "Frostbite taught me some new ice things, do you want to see?"

.

The next change Danny noticed were his lips. He rarely wound up in front of a mirror as Phantom, but when he did, he found himself doing double take after double take.

Today, it was because he had gotten a fairly nasty cut and wanted to patch it up in ghost form before switching back. He had just finished that, when his reflection caught his eye.

He made a face at it, then froze.

The inside edges of his lips were faintly blue.

He floated closer to the mirror to get a better look, and pulled back his bottom lip. Danny knew he had unusual coloring for a ghost, even a young one, and that Vlad certainly hadn't kept a human coloration, despite being a half-ghost, but Danny had been hoping that he'd be an exception. Especially after the whole incident with Dan.

Danny didn't want to look anything like his so-called future self.

On closer inspection, however, the color of his lips was darker, more violet than blue, and the inside of his mouth was more or less the same color it always had been in ghost form. There were thankfully, no fangs.

Was this a side effect of his cold core? To make him look hypothermic? He wouldn't particularly mind if that was the case.

He stopped playing with his lips and put his hands down. If that were the case, where else would it show? Fingers? Toes? Ears? He pulled back his hair, which was now, admittedly, rather shaggy.

There was a very faint purple-blue blush on his ears.

"Great," he whispered. He pulled off his gloves. The discoloration was there, too, on the tips of his fingers and under his nails.

But there wasn't anything he could really do about it, other than hope it didn't spread. He sighed. At least none of this was visible in his human form.

.

"Your freckles are coming back," said Jazz.

"Ugh," said Danny, hanging upside-down on the couch. "Really?"

"Yep," said Jazz. "You should think about wearing sunblock more often when you're flying."

"I don't think that would really matter," said Danny. "My ghost half and my human half don't line up in detail."

Jazz closed her textbook. "Have you checked?"

"Checked what?"

"Whether or not your ghost form has freckles."

"No," said Danny. He somersaulted off the couch.

"Where are you going?" asked Jazz.

"To check the freckles thing!" said Danny. He climbed the stairs to the bathroom he and Jazz shared and shut the door. He locked it behind him before going ghost.

Jazz was right. His ghost form did have freckles.

Wait a moment. Those patterns... Were those constellations?

.

After the fight was over, Danny ran a hand through his hair and- Wait. What was that?

Hidden in his thick hair were two small, cold, crystalline lumps. _Were those horns?_

Danny swallowed hard and flew back to the school bathroom. Yes, he had grown a small set of icy horns.

That settled it. He couldn't ignore these changes anymore. He had to figure out what was going on.

_Horns. _He couldn't believe it.

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He arranged cover with Jazz, Sam, and Tucker, because he didn't know how long he'd be gone. His destination was the Far Frozen, as they were his allies with the greatest medical knowledge. Clockwork would probably know what was going on, too, but he had all these weird rules about what he could and could not tell Danny.

As he flew through the green mists of the Ghost Zone, Danny mused that he was lucky to have so many allies to help him, now. So many people he could be safe with. He remembered back at the beginning, where the only people at his side were Sam and Tucker. They were great, of course, and he couldn't have survived without them, but they were kids, too.

It was good to have adults on his side.

.

The Far Frozen was as cold and snowy as ever, and Danny's core hummed happily at the hospitable environment, shifting into purring as he was greeted by the yetis. They laughed, smiled, and patted him on the shoulders.

It made Danny hesitant to bring up his problem.

But it _was _the reason he'd carved out time to come. So when Frostbite asked what had brought him to the Far Frozen, Danny showed them.

All the yetis went silent for a moment, and then began cheering.

Danny scowled, confused and not liking it. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Forgive us, great one," said Frostbite, chuckling. "We are simply flattered that you have chosen to imitate us."

"I didn't do this on purpose," objected Danny.

"It's a subconscious process," explained Frostbite. "Child ghosts tend to partially imitate the adults they like, the adults they spend time with."

"Oh," said Danny. "_Oh. _So, it isn't a thing I should be worried about."

"No," said Frostbite. "It's quite normal."

Danny nodded. "I've, um," he shifted closer to Frostbite, almost laying on the larger ghost's arm. "The horns aren't the only thing, though, and I'm not sure where everything is coming from," he said. "Some of it is happening to my human form, too. Should I be worried about that? The horns haven't transferred over, but..."

"We'll look into it."

.

Danny had a thorough medical check up, courtesy of the doctors of the Far Frozen, and was given a squeaky clean bill of health. Literally. They had given him a laminated medical report, for future reference.

After the exam, several yetis volunteered to teach him how to use the horns to help direct his ice powers. They were brave warriors, unafraid of being frozen by Danny's still-growing ice powers.

This was followed by a huge feast in his honor (Danny suspected that the yetis just liked having an excuse to throw a party). Danny did his best not to overeat and drop into a food coma, but was, sadly, unsuccessful.

Frostbite carried him from the feasting hall half asleep, and tucked him into bed in a lavish guest room. Among the thick, warm furs of the bed, Danny let himself become human and fully fell asleep.

.

He woke up feeling rested and much more at ease. Knowing what was happening, that his ghost form was just copying his friends, took a lot of stress off of him. True, he wasn't sure where the star freckles came from, and there were two culprits for the blue skin, but, overall, the changes were no longer a mystery.

He crawled from beneath the heavy covers, stretched, and went ghost.

Whereupon he noticed that his ghost form abruptly had four arms.

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"Most likely," said Frostbite, "your subconscious was blocking this particular transformation, as it is somewhat more extreme than the others."

Danny tried to cross his arms, and blushed furiously as they collided with each other, highlighting a frustrating lack of coordination. "Yeah," he said. "Do you- do you know how I can undo this? I don't know how to deal with having," he gestured with all of his arms, "four arms."

Frostbite didn't bother to hide his amused smile. "I don't know any way that would be healthy for you, at this stage of your development. I would suggest that you go to Pandora, and ask her for advice. I am assuming she is the primary four-armed ghost of your acquaintance, yes?"

"Yeah," said Danny. He sighed. "I'm going to be gone for so long. Jazz is going to go mental."

Frostbite patted him on the knee. "I can take you to Elysium with the Infinimap," he said. "That will shorten your journey, at least."

.

Pandora was as excited about Danny's new appearance as the yetis had been. She spent nearly an hour alternately cooing over his extra limbs, showing him off to the various citizens of Elysium, and giving him sandwiches.

Danny... liked the attention, honestly. Sometimes, he forgot what it felt like, for an adult to be proud of him. His parents and most of his teachers only looked at him with disappointment, nowadays.

When the hour was up, however, Pandora was determined to teach him how to fight with four arms. She put a staff into each of his hands, and off to the training grounds he went.

As it grew late, Pandora extracted a promise from him to come back regularly, for more training. Danny didn't think he had coordinating four arms down, yet, but he thought he was getting the hang of it.

There was one more place he wanted to stop before he went back home.

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Danny was expected. The tall, dark doors of Clockwork's lair were open. He drifted inside.

"Hello, Daniel," called Clockwork, pleasantly.

"Hi," said Danny, rounding a corner to find the older ghost, in child form. "I-" He stopped, he had no idea how to phrase this without sounding stupid.

As far as he could tell, he hadn't picked up anything from Clockwork, beyond, _maybe, _the blue spots on his skin, and he felt weirdly guilty about that. After all, he spent more time with Clockwork than the others, and after seeing them so happy, he didn't want Clockwork to feel left out.

Clockwork took off his gloves and started rolling up his sleeves, shifting to elder form as he did so. Danny blinked and flew closer, curious. Clockwork hardly ever took off his gloves, and Danny had never seen him with his sleeves rolled up.

There were, Danny noted with surprise, symbols inlaid into Clockwork's arms in gold and silver. He looked at them, his head tilted. Some of them looked familiar.

"Oh," said Danny, eyes wide, "they're astronomical symbols."

"The sky _was_ humanity's first clock," said Clockwork. He shifted age again, to his middle form, and pulled back his hood, revealing long, white hair.

"Oh," repeated Danny, hunching sheepishly. He felt rather foolish, now.

"You don't have to worry about these things," said Clockwork, patting Danny on the shoulder. "Would you like a snack, before I send you home?"

"Sure," said Danny.


	48. Chapter 48

**Short one today.**

**Day 18: Horror was posted as part of the Chains of Kings.**

**Day 19: Doors was posted as part of Doorways.**

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Sky

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Depending on perspective, the Ghost Zone either didn't have a sky, or it was nothing _but _sky. Danny preferred the later interpretation. It put a familiar spin on a place that was, at its core, incredibly alien.

Not that Danny minded the alien part. He'd wanted to be an astronaut, after all.

But flying through the sky, even a green one- That was good. Danny, Phantom, was a creature of the sky. Flying came to him as easily as breathing, as easily as falling. Breaking the laws of gravity felt right to him in a way none of his other powers quite matched.

Maybe it was because flying was a power for _him. _It wasn't a weapon. It wasn't a shield. It wasn't for sneaking, or running, not really, although he supposed he used it for those things.

Flying was his. Something he could enjoy and have the enjoyment be untainted by memories of battle.

He loved flying. He loved the sky.

And, he thought, as the thin green clouds of the Ghost Zone trailed into spirals off his fingertips and the wind twisted encouragingly around him, he thought the sky might love him back.


	49. Chapter 49

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Ooze

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It wasn't as if Danny and Vlad weren't paying attention to their surroundings as the fought their way across the Ghost Zone. They were, if only to avoid running into various feature of the skyscape, use said features as weapons, or, on Danny's part, to avoid hitting the smaller, weaker ghosts scattering from their path. The issue was that they weren't paying attention to the _implications _of said surroundings.

The Ghost Zone was vast. _Immense. _Danny and Vlad were powerful. Incredibly powerful, for such young ghosts. In their element, they were a match for just about anyone. Even in a neutral environment, they were formidable. But the Ghost Zone was far from homogeneous.

Free-floating seas were not as common in the Zone as floating islands, but they weren't unheard of and tended to be just as _interesting_ as their rocky counterparts. Currently, the two half ghosts were fighting adjacent to an amorphous, glowing ocean of liquid ectoplasm and water. It held itself together with surface tension, rippling slightly and throwing off little globs when one of Danny or Vlad's ectoblasts impacted the surface.

The ocean, as the name suggested, was huge. Perhaps its volume would not equal that of an earthly body of water with the same title, but it would more than rival most lakes.

(In other words, it was big enough to be inhabited.)

But back to the fight.

Danny and Vlad were, in most respects, evenly matched. Vlad was older, more experienced, more knowledgeable, more sure in his powers. He had a longer reach, and a more varied arsenal. Danny was faster, more adaptable, and, though neither he nor Vlad truly realized it, just a little bit smarter. His attacks had more force behind them.

Vlad, being a full-grown man who took very good care of himself physically, also had a higher endurance. That was what was giving him the edge in this fight. Danny, who hadn't gotten a full night's sleep in two weeks, was tiring.

So, Danny slipped up. Vlad managed to get a duplicate in behind him, grabbed him by the ankle, and threw him into the glowing sea of ooze. With a shout and a splash, Danny disappeared beneath the surface.

Vlad waited for him to come back up.

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Hitting water at speed feels like hitting concrete. Liquid doesn't compress. It isn't soft. It hurts.

But Danny was, sadly, used to getting thrown into concrete. He had the presence of mind to hold his breath. He couldn't, however, keep track of which way the surface was as he tumbled deeper into the sea. When he finally managed to stop, he was highly disoriented.

Considering the lack of gravity, he couldn't simply try to float to the surface. He couldn't see past the glow of the liquid, so he couldn't follow the light. He could barely even see his own body in the reverse-gloom.

But he had to do _something, _otherwise he'd suffocate. Also, the ooze was, well, _ooze. _It was gross, and it was seeping into his suit.

(Forgive Danny; he had yet to realize that, as a ghost, he didn't need to breathe.)

He picked a direction and started flying, as fast as he could. This wasn't very fast, because the liquid the sea was made of was viscous.

(He was also going in the wrong direction.)

This was not Danny's element.

That didn't mean that _other _creatures didn't find it hospitable.

Something flexible wrapped around Danny's ankle, halting his progress. A similar item encircled his upper arm. Danny kicked and flailed, but soon his other limbs were held immobile as well. His attempt to summon a ectoblast fizzled out, he didn't know how to keep one going underwater.

Danny could barely see the things holding him still, but they reminded him of the arms of the ectopusses. More came, holding him more firmly, and others began to probe curiously at his body.

One looped carelessly around his neck, the end of it trailing gently along his face, and Danny froze. An old, deep instinct told him that the thing he was facing was the more powerful one, here, and advised him to play dead until it got bored. He did.

Right up until the one creeping over his face pressed its way past his lips and into his mouth. It moved around his cheeks, trying to find a way past his teeth.

Danny bit it. Hard.

The creature, possibly out of anger, possibly out of reflex, began to squeeze. Hard.

This was, frankly, an overload. Too much pain, too much sensation, and all on top of not being able to breathe and his exhaustion from the fight with Vlad.

Another, different, instinct rose to the surface, his core kicking into overdrive. Ice began to form on his skin and thickened, pushing away the creature's limbs. As soon as they were gone, he curled in on himself protectively, ice cracking like gunshots.

The ice kept forming.

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It took Vlad longer than it really should have to realize that Danny wasn't going to come back up. He sighed and examined the back of his glove, wondering if he should leave and finish what he had been doing, or if it was worth it to go find Danny.

It was, from his perspective, likely that Danny was simply hiding.

But even he couldn't help but be slightly concerned. With another very put-upon sigh, he crafted a spool of fuchsia thread from his ectoplasm, and stuck one end of it to a nearby floating boulder and the other end through his belt. He had no desire to get lost in the glowing sea. Before he breached the surface, he encased himself in a glowing bubble. It would reduce his vision further, but he didn't care to be drenched in ectoplasm.

It took Vlad some time to find any sign of Danny. That sign, such as it was, was a slightly bluish glow to his right. Vlad rolled his eyes, exasperated that the child had already managed to antagonize and get in a fight with some sea creature.

The liquid around him grew colder as he approached, to the point where the temperature actually began to put some pressure on his shield. Something huge and tentacled swam by him, away from the cold.

Something clinked against Vlad's shield.

No. Not something. Someone. Danny had completely encased himself in ice. _Thick _ice. Thick enough to distort all of Danny's features to the point where he was recognizable only by coloration.

Vlad's mouth went dry. He rather doubted this was healthy. He pulled the chunk of ice into his shield, and knocked sharply on its surface. Danny did not respond.

"Come now, Daniel," said Vlad. "Whatever frightened you is long gone."

Nothing.

Vlad frowned slightly, not deigning to show how worried he was, even with no one to see. What was he going to do?

.

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**I might potentially continue this on Day 29: Heat.**


	50. Chapter 50

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Isolation

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Yesterday had been perfect. Danny had woken up on time, feeling rested. His mother had made pancakes for breakfast. No ghosts attacked. His homework was already done. He had been able to spend a lot of time with his friends and family. The weather during the day had been good, and the night had been ideal for stargazing. It was great. Wonderful.

This morning had also been good, nice and slow and soft. Danny felt more at peace than he had for a long time.

It was with a light heart and a broad smile that he left his house to go meet up with Sam and Tucker in the park. He actually skipped a bit as he walked down the sidewalk.

He caught sight of Sam and Tucker waiting near the park entrance and waved. They waved back. He picked up his pace, breaking into a jog and-

His foot didn't hit the pavement. It fell, and kept falling, and he fell after it, into a green-tinted void. He turned around just in time to see the natural portal close after him.

He groaned, then smiled wryly. Of course, he couldn't have _two _good days in a row. What was he thinking?

Well, this wasn't the first time a natural portal had decided to eat him, and it probably wouldn't be the last. At least exploring the Ghost Zone was always interesting. His smile perked up a little. Silver linings. Jazz would be proud.

He went ghost and looked around, trying to see if he could spot any familiar landmarks. His smile twisted into disappointment as he realized that there were no landmarks. At all. Just green, as far as his eyes could see.

Alright, maybe this _wouldn't_ be interesting. Great.

All directions being equal... He started flying.

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Lacking clock, sun, or stars, telling time was just about impossible. Still, Danny felt certain that he had been flying at nearly full speed for hours, and nothing about his surroundings had changed.

He was beginning to become concerned. What if the portal had dumped him into the Ghost Zone's equivalent of outer space? What if he was just getting farther in, farther away from home? What if he was going in circles?

Well, at least he could do something about the last one. He formed an ectoblast in his hand and coated it with ice, making himself a little ghost lantern. It would take days to burn itself out. He'd make one of these every few minutes as a sort of bread crumb trail. Then he'd at least know if he was crossing his own trail.

He let the ghost lantern go and kept flying.

.

Danny thought it might have been a day. Maybe even longer.

The ectoenergy here was plentiful, the ectoplasm thick, more than enough to sustain him, so long as he stayed in ghost form, but he still got tired, still needed sleep. He was beginning to feel like he usually did when he stayed up for more than twenty-four hours, but the utter blandness of his surroundings, the boredom, might have been contributing to that feeling.

Danny didn't know it was possible to be this scared and this bored at the same time. The emptiness of the place was wearing at his mind.

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Falling asleep floating out in the open was, in Danny's opinion, a bad idea. He made a tiny island and igloo out of ice for himself. It wasn't the most comfortable place he'd ever slept, even after he molded the ice to fit his body, but it honestly wasn't the worst, either.

.

He was no longer sure how long it had been since the portal deposited him in this place, but it felt like forever. Time didn't mean much here.

He was still leaving behind ghost lanterns, but now he was decorating them, just to have something to do other than fly. Starbursts were the main shape he was making, as well as ones with his name on them, just in case.

Just in case _what, _he wasn't sure. In case someone he knew ran across them, maybe?

That would be nice.

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Danny had slept three more times since he fell through. There was no change in scenery. He had a new strategy: shouting.

His hope was that someone would hear him and come and investigate. Heck, he would settle for some_thing _coming and investigating.

He shouted for help. That he was lost.

He was so lonely.

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Danny's shouts had turned into names. Not that he really thought that the people he was calling for were listening. It was just something different to do.

He would admit that he carried on conversations with them. And why not? There was no one here to hear him.

Maybe Clockwork could hear him. But Clockwork wasn't answering.

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The one-sided (and rather annoyed) conversations with Clockwork had turned into begging. A lot of begging. And crying. That, too.

But maybe Clockwork _couldn't _hear him. What was time, in a place like this?

Nothing.

He didn't bother to make and ice house for himself. He fell asleep floating, weeping, in the void.

(He wanted somebody to save him.)

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When he woke up, thin strands of _something _were all over his body. They were like spider silk, and extremely fragile. He brushed them away.

They were the first new thing he had seen in... he didn't know how long. It could have been weeks or months. His sleep schedule was too erratic to do any good. But they unnerved him. It couldn't have been a ghost that made them, he would have felt them come close.

It had to be something from the environment, and it couldn't be healthy.

He resolved to sleep inside from now on.

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His evil future self had been able to make portals. So why not Danny?

He had no idea what he was doing.

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This had to be what hell was like. Or at least purgatory. What did he do to deserve this?

.

Danny started talking again. This time, it wasn't to call for help, but simply to remember how to talk. How to carry on a conversation.

He pretended to be talking to Sam, to Tucker, to Jazz, to Jack and Maddie, to Mr. Lancer, even to Dash. His eternal flight took on a daydream-like quality. He imagined conversations with the Lunch Lady and the Box Ghost. He congratulated them on the birth of their child. He had a conversation with Ember about her latest album, he was so excited to hear it...

He started talking to Clockwork again. Clockwork was the only one who could even possibly hear him.

Please, please, he just wanted to go home. He would do anything.

Why was Clockwork doing this? What had Danny done?

What was Danny _going_ to do?

He just wanted to go home.

Please.

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Danny decided to take the day off. It had been... It had been a long time. He was tired, and a creeping thought in the back of his head mused that, maybe, the reason no one had found him yet was because he wasn't making himself available to be found.

He built himself a house of ice. No. A castle. It was grand and beautiful, the spires tall, the dungeons deep. Fine sculptures and murals lined the walls. The halls were lit by intricate chandeliers.

He lived there for a while, and left it floating as he flew away.

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'Howling mad' is not as fun as it sounds.

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Danny turned over the memory of his last day on Earth over and over again in his mind. In retrospect, it was almost too good. It was like a farewell. A last gift. A goodbye.

He held on to it, tightly, anyway. He could go back to that. He could.

It was something to live for.

.

It had been a long time.

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Danny didn't notice at first when his memories began to blur around the edges. They weren't important ones. Trivial things. Who sat where in math class. Which day of the week it had been when he first fell through. The order of the shops on main street.

But then he started forgetting names. That was unacceptable.

He started his litany again. He would not forget. He refused.

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He had hope. He did. He had hope. He had hope. He had...

.

He was forgetting. The nothing- it did that. He made himself another house of ice, this one a perfect replica of Fentonworks, except for the colors. He made statues of his friends and family. He made constellations out of ghost lanterns, so that if he laid on the roof it almost seemed like he was looking at the night sky.

They weren't right. None of it was right. He left, quickly.

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Every time he slept, he woke covered with silk. He no longer cared.

He thought about going human, about how long it would take to starve to death. Could he starve to death, even in human form?

He doubted it. He was going to be trapped here, forever.

A cage without bars or walls... He was sure Mr. Lancer had mentioned a poem or a saying like that once. He should have paid more attention in class.

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He fantasized about getting hit by the boo-merang. He no longer had any hope of actually being rescued, but it would be nice to know that they had tried. That someone had looked for him. That someone had missed him.

He missed them so much. Even Dash and Vlad.

If he could just see someone, anyone... He'd even take Pariah Dark. He'd take _Spectra. _

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Raging against the heavens was almost cathartic.

Almost.

It reminded him that no one was raging back. There was no answer to his insults, to his curses.

It would be a long time until he spoke again.

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Danny drifted to a halt, slowly. All this time, flying in one direction, and still there was no change in scenery. He looked back over his shoulder. His last two lanterns were just barely in sight. Normally, he'd be making another one.

Normally. He sighed.

Since when had this become normal? How long had he been doing this?

Long enough for all his memories to fade around the edges. Long enough to lose all but the faintest ember of hope.

He tilted his head up- insofar as 'up' had any meaning in this void. He coughed, clearing his throat. "Clockwork," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, hoarse from disuse, "please. Whatever I did to deserve this, I'm- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, and I'll do anything to make it up, just, please. Please. Let me go home. Just- Even for a minute. Please."

There was no answer. The lantern that formed between Danny's hands was misshapen and small. He let it tumble carelessly from his fingers.

He kept flying.

He did not speak again.

.

The silk that grew while he slept was getting thicker. He suspected, but didn't know, that he was sleeping for longer, too.

.

The lantern he made was huge and beautiful, a beacon that would be visible for miles and miles, even through the gloom and mists of this void. Smaller lanterns, practice runs, orbited it slowly in a mockery of a solar system. This lantern was going to be his last one.

He wasn't going to fly any more after this. He was going to go to sleep and hope that he wouldn't wake up. Not until someone found him.

Into the side of the beacon, he built a little cranny, a dark, secure place, and imbued it with enough purpose to give it the illusion of gravity. Somewhere a ghost wouldn't mind sleeping away the years.

He crawled in with a sigh. As he closed his eyes, he tried to think of his family. If he was lucky, maybe he would dream of them.

.

He woke, briefly, to the sensation of being touched. His eyes sprang open, a wild hope blooming in his chest.

It died almost immediately.

The thing brushing against him wasn't a loving hand or a curious ghost. It was that odd, silky residue. The strands were thicker than he had seen before, and if he had any willpower left after all this time, he would have wondered if he could have woven it into something. He'd tried before, with thinner strands, but had been unsuccessful. There had been many things he had done to stave off the boredom.

As it was, he simply went to sleep again.

.

Nightmares were better than being awake. Nightmares held the chance that he'd see people again, even if they were fake. Even so, that particular nightmare, seeing his friends and family die like that, was enough to jostle him awake.

Instead of green, the color that greeted his tired eyes was a dull, soft, silver. He shifted, trying to get a better look at it. Whatever it was, it was too close to his face for his eyes to easily focus on it.

Oh, it was the silk. Apparently, it had grown enough to cocoon him.

Alright, then.

His friends, his family, and his teacher... What was his teacher's name again...?

.

Wakefulness again. His brain buzzed with fatigue and confusion. He felt weak. Perhaps the long time he had spent in ghost form was finally catching up to him.

Whatever 'ghost form' meant. Was there another?

Green light, more than could be accounted for by his eyes, reflected off the walls of his cocoon. His eyes moved slowly, looking for the source. He found it in ectoplasm dripping off his body. No, _from_ his body. He was melting, destabilizing, his ectoplasm pooling at the bottom of the cocoon.

Oh, well. Whatever. He had the vague impression that someone he once knew would have scolded him for the attitude, but he couldn't quite recall who.

Speaking of which, hadn't he known someone who destabilized? He couldn't remember.

There had been other people, once. He knew that. It would have been nice, to see them one last time. Or the other thing. The other thing he liked. What were they? Right. The stars. It would have been nice to see the stars. He had made some stars before, out in the void, but he couldn't see them from here.

Gooey eyelids slipped closed over his eyes.

.

It wasn't fair, that he should still exist enough to wake up as a puddle of ectoplasm. He didn't stay awake long.

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There were sounds. He forced his eyes open. Eyes. He had eyes again. His hands came up to touch them. Hands. A body. He had a body again.

Again?

What had he had before? He didn't remember. He didn't remember anything.

Where was he? It was small and grey. He touched a silky wall. What was that sound? It was rhythmic and regular, like a heartbeat. What was a heartbeat? He put a hand over his chest. Should he have a heartbeat?

His hands... They were as dark as night. He could see stars in them, nebulae. They seemed to blend with the fabric of his sleeves, which continued the pattern. Was that normal?

On contemplation, he decided that he wanted the sound. He wanted to go to it. He rolled over in his cocoon, trying to determine where the sound was coming from. Was it bigger than before? Before what?

Here. He knocked against the side of the cocoon before digging into it with his claws. Layers upon layers of silk fell away as he tore at the side of the cocoon. He kept having to stop, to rest. He was sure he had been sleeping for a long time, but even this little bit of work felt like a marathon.

Finally, he pierced the surface. The sound became clearer. A beam of light from outside fell through the hole. He redoubled his efforts, pushing and pulling and clawing. A tear large enough for him to slip through opened up, and he sprawled out of the cocoon onto a hard surface.

A pair of hands- Not his!- picked him up and set him on his feet. A person, a man, half-floated, half-knelt in front of him. He wore a long purple robe, his skin was blue, and his eyes were red. As he watched, the man's form warped, becoming older. Behind the man floated other people.

They weren't outside. They were in a... a room. That was the word. A room.

The sound was coming from all over in the room and also from the man.

"Greetings to you, youngest of Ancients, Master of Space," said the man, gravely, his voice deep. "We congratulate you on your completion of your trial, your becoming, and welcome you to our council."

None of these words made sense. He tilted his head in confusion.

"I am Clockwork, Master of Time, eldest of Ancients."

Clockwork. He knew that name. He knew-

He took two small steps forward, closing the distance between himself and Clockwork, and fell against the older ghost.

.

Clockwork stayed crouching and held the small ghost that had once been Daniel Fenton until he went limp in his arms. With a small sigh, he straightened, adjusting his grip on the child, who shifted unconsciously.

"I must admit," said Pandora, drifting forward, "I had not expected his appearance to change so much. And yet... so little." She teased a strand of silver-green hair away from the little ghost's head. "He looks younger. Is he still half human?"

Clockwork nodded. "It will take time and care before that part of him can heal, however." His lips twisted as he looked down at the child curled against his chest.

"You did the right thing," said Pandora, voice pitched low. "Had he been anywhere else when he started coming into his power, the Observants would have found him and destroyed him."

Clockwork did not acknowledge the statement. He turned towards the other Ancients, who drifted closer, curious. It had been a long time since their family had welcomed a new member, and never a child.

"What shall we call him?" asked Nocturne, Master of Dreams, subtly comparing his stars to the child's.

"I think," said Clockwork, "that he will like 'Cosmic.'"

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**The concept for 'Cosmic' came from agent-jaselin on tumblr. They and I were talking about how Danny might become an Ancient, and it spiraled into this. **


	51. Chapter 51

**I think I first saw this idea in a post by show-phantom-ideas on tumblr.**

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Lightning

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Normally, Mr. Lancer would have been home by now, but he had made the terrible decision to agree to tutor a student at the school this evening and they had never shown up. He wasn't sure what he had expected, honestly. If they had been responsible, they wouldn't have needed tutoring.

Lancer pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. It wasn't as if he never offered to tutor students before, but the others usually scheduled their meetings right after school, and called ahead if they were going to miss. Even Daniel Fenton made an effort to actually show up. When he wasn't distracted by playing video games.

At least Daniel _tried _when he was in class. This-

Mr. Lancer sighed, angrily. He was just working himself up, at this point. He should go home. He began to rise from his seat.

As if to mock this decision, lightning flashed outside the window, followed by a deep rumble of thunder.

Hm. Driving in that would be unpleasant. His lesson plans could stand some work. Just until the storm moved past. Or until he couldn't stand to be here anymore. Or until the storm knocked the power out.

He sat back down, heavily. He'd be eating takeout, tonight, it seemed.

Lightning and thunder continued to flash outside, the rain pounded on the roof, and the wind wuthered around the corners of the building. It was, in a word, noisy. The lights also had a tendency to flicker just a little bit after each strike of lightning.

So he didn't notice, at first, the tiny whimpers that followed each boom and crackle of the thunder. But sometimes a pattern becomes too much to ignore, even for overworked, underpaid, overtired teachers like Mr. Lancer. He paused in his work, listening.

Strange sounds at night could spell real danger in this town. Lancer carefully pulled open his desk drawer, and took out the tiny ectoblaster he had finally talked the school into letting him have after he'd been forced to drive off the Box Ghost with nothing but a rolled up newspaper.

The sound was probably just the wind blowing through a poorly fitted window or something similar, but it payed to be prepared.

Mr. Lancer moved carefully around the room, pausing to listen when the thunder struck. He tracked the sound to his classroom's small supply closet.

Probably not a loose window, then.

Bracing himself, he threw open the door.

Despite the lights being off, a soft glow came from the corner of the otherwise dim closet. A ghost had wedged itself underneath the shelving there, his knees drawn to his chest, hands over his ears, eyes screwed shut.

Not just any ghost. Phantom.

Lightning flared through the classroom windows, and Phantom visibly flinched. When the thunder roared a moment later, he flinched again, producing the sound that had led Mr. Lancer to him.

Lancer was at a loss. Phantom was a highly dangerous ghost, but he had protected the school on numerous occasions, and right now...

Well. If he looked past the glow, Phantom was of an age to be one of his students. And he was obviously frightened.

Lancer knelt on the closet's threshold. "Phantom?" he asked, softly.

The ghost's eyes sprang open immediately. A strangled sound emerged from his throat. "I-" he said. "I didn't know you- that anyone was still here," he said, before jumping at another lightning strike.

"I'm usually not," said Lancer, unsure how to broach the subject he was currently interested. "I was supposed to tutor a student this evening, but they never came."

Something like guilt passed over the ghost's face. "Fenton?" he asked.

"No," said Mr. Lancer, putting aside for the moment the fact that Daniel Fenton's delinquency was known even to ghosts. "Phantom, why are you here?"

"I can leave, if you want," offered the ghost, immediately. He made no move to extract himself from his hiding place under the shelves.

"No, I'm just... curious," said Lancer.

"Oh," said Phantom. "Well. I was-" he jumped at the flash of lightning. "I was fighting Ember, in the park, and the storm came up and- and this was the closest building I knew- I thought would be empty. Storms and flying things, you know?" he shrugged. "Not com-" the thunder struck, and Phantom jumped hard enough to hit his head on the bottom of the shelf he was under. He moaned.

"Phantom," said Lancer, feeling, for a moment, stupidly daring, "are you... afraid of lightning?"

The ghost regarded him balefully for a split second, and Lancer feared he had overstepped, but then the ghost looked away. There was, he noticed now, a slight tremor in Phantom's limbs.

"I didn't used to be," said the ghost, quietly. "Before... It reminds me of how I died."

"You were struck by lightning?"

"No. Just, you know, electrocuted." He shuddered. "I don't want to talk about it." More lightning, another flinch. "Look, I won't bother you. I just want to stay here 'til the storm ends." Thunder rolled. "Ancients, it's getting closer."

"I used to be scared of storms, too," said Mr. Lancer.

"So did everyone," grumbled the ghost. "They're big and loud and unpredictable. People- People grow out of it."

"Sometimes," said Mr. Lancer.

"Pl-Please don't give me a lecture on facing my fears," said Phantom. "Like, half of my enemies have electricity powers. I deal with it. I just. If you- Can we talk about something else? Something- Distract me."

The last was halfway between an order and a plea. Lancer cast his mind out, and it latched on to the lessons he was just writing. He _was _a teacher.

That seemed to be a good choice, because Phantom seemed to calm as he listened. He even slipped in a few questions and jokes.

Eventually the storm moved off.

"I should go, now," said Phantom, pulling himself out from under the shelves. Lancer stood as well, his knees protesting loudly at the sudden movement. "You should go home, too. It's late." He began to fade, the edges of his form becoming transparent. "Thank you for helping me," he said, just before he disappeared entirely.

Mr Lancer blinked at the empty closet. "You're welcome," he said.


	52. Chapter 52

**This is a story that I've wanted to tell for a while. I'm very excited. I might continue it later this week.**

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Mask

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Danny slouched against the back wall of the ballroom, mask dangling from his fingers. He didn't want to be here. If his parents weren't out there having the time of their lives, he _wouldn't _be here, but someone had to keep an eye on them and keep them from getting sucked into whatever scheme Vlad had this time.

He sighed, tracking the bulk of his father across the dance floor. His mother was harder to see, but she was never far behind.

A masquerade ball. Really. Ancients, Vlad was so pretentious.

(Internally, Danny thought that a masquerade ball _could_ be cool... except, well. _Vlad._)

His mother briefly emerged from the crowd, caught his eye, and mimed putting on his mask. Apparently she was watching him, too. With a grumble, he put the mask back on. Vlad had given it to him, and although he couldn't see or feel anything wrong with it, he still felt that it was suspect.

"Did your parents make you come, too?"

Danny glanced over. A girl was standing a few feet away. Her dress was red and puffy, and her mask was golden. Her hair was done up in complicated braids. She was, perhaps, one or two years younger than he was, though it was hard to tell with the mask. She was certainly shorter than him.

The silhouette of her dress crumpled as she also slumped against the wall. "You'd think that a masked ball would be, you know, cool, but it's just a bunch of old people jumping around and trying to talk business with the 'great Vlad Masters.'"

"Ouch," said Danny. "At least my parents aren't trying to do that, I guess."

"Oh, yeah? What are they doing, then?" asked the girl.

"I honestly have no idea," said Danny, watching his parents gyrate across the floor again. "Dancing? You could call it dancing." He shrugged.

"Ah," said the girl. "My name's Ellie, by the way."

"Danny," said Danny. "Nice to meet you."

"Same. So, what do your parents do?"

"They're scientists," said Danny, not wanting to get into the whole 'ghost hunting' thing. This wasn't Amity Park. Most people didn't believe in ghosts.

Ellie bobbed her head. "Cool, cool. I kinda want to be a scientist. Like, finding out new things, it just sounds really awesome?"

"Yeah, it can be fun sometimes," said Danny. "I don't understand most of it, though." He rolled his shoulders. Actually, he understood a lot more of his parents' work than he let on, in some specific areas more than them, even. Admitting that wasn't wise, however. "What field are you interested."

"Astrophysics, definitely," said Ellie, firmly. "Space is the _coolest _thing."

Danny grinned. "Oh, yeah. There's just _so much. _I mean, have you ever looked at the Hubble Deep Fields?"

.

Two teens talking together and having a good time evidently had a magnetic property. Three other high school kids had come to join them, all boys.

One boy was very tall and broad. During their introduction, Danny reflected that if he was on Casper's football team, Dash wouldn't be the star player anymore. Unlike Dash, however, Dustin was quiet, barely speaking at all and always deferring to the others.

The second boy introduced himself as Damien, and he was also tall, but thin and skeletal, like a strong breeze would blow him away. He seemed to realize this, because he had a pair of small enamel pins on the lapel of his suit: a skeleton and a scarecrow.

The last, Dmitri, a redhead, was about the same size as Danny. He reminded Danny of Jazz, for some reason (clearly, her psychology-camp-induced absence was driving him a little crazy). And, less pleasantly, of Wes. He had... a lot of questions. Not quite to the point of being annoying, but still a lot. There was also something wrong with his mask. It was hard to tell, but it looked almost as if one eye of it had been filled in. Danny didn't want to mention it, and ruin the atmosphere, though.

There _was _an atmosphere. Shockingly enough, these kids liked him, and they were much cooler than Danny would have expected of kids who's parents had been invited by Vlad. Which, yeah, was maybe a weird prejudice on his part. _His _parents had been invited by Vlad, after all.

Danny liked them back.

"... and the _names_ of the dark matter candidates, whoever thought them up was a genius," said Dmitri, waving his hands.

"Well, yeah," said Danny, grinning, "if they were _allowed_ to pick the names, they probably were the ones to come up with the whole idea for it in the first place. But I think MACHOs might be more likely than WIMPs. You've heard about the exoplanets they found last year?" He let his eyes briefly lose focus. "I bet there are even more of them, that we just can't see yet."

"Yeah, but there have been a lot of tests for MACHOs," said Damien. "You'd think we'd have seen a least a couple. And what about dark energy?"

"I don't think those two are actually related," said Ellie.

"Sure they are. They both have the word dark in them."

"Yeah, but I don't think they actually have anything to do with each other," said Ellie.

"They just have similar names," said Dustin.

"We can look it up, later," said Dmitri.

"Speaking of related," said Danny, "how are you guys related?"

There was a pause. "How'd you know?" asked Ellie. "Like, I could understand if you could see our faces, but..."

Danny shrugged. "I don't know. It just... Felt that way?

"We're cousins," said Damien, leaning forward. His body language spoke of nerves.

Danny couldn't imagine why Damien would be nervous about that, but he probably had his reasons. Family drama, maybe. It wasn't Danny's place to ask, he was a stranger.

Even if he was rather wishing he wasn't. How often did he meet people who shared so many of his interests? Never.

(Well, they were mostly just talking about the one interest, space, but still. And Dustin had mentioned liking Dumpty Humpty.)

"That's cool," he said. He would have liked to have helped. Maybe he still could, somehow? He and his parents were going to be here for a few days.

If he focused, there was an aura of something being not quite right with the cousins. Nothing he could put his finger on, and nothing to do with them as people, but... something.

"Hey," said Ellie, "what do you say we raid the snack table? It can't _all _be super fancy stuff we can't name, can it? I mean, at least there's punch."

Danny followed Ellie's gaze to the refreshments table. When he'd been over there before, everything had been covered, and he hadn't felt like fighting his way back across the floor and potentially losing sight of his parents. He glanced at them now. They looked like they were having fun.

He lightly bit at his lower lip. He _knew _Vlad had to be up to _something_. Otherwise, why bother with all of this?

But... new friends... He _liked _friends, and Vlad was _always _up to something. Danny deserved to have a little fun now and again, even so.

"Sure," he said. "We can ruin our dinner."

Ellie snickered. "That's the spirit!" she said, patting Danny on the back and slipping past him.

He smirked at the pun, even if it was unintentional.

"Yeah, better do it now, before there's a punchline," said Dmitri. "Wouldn't want people to think we're in a joke."

Danny choked a little, trying to swallow a laugh.

"That was _terrible. _You're terrible," said Damien.

"Hey, our new friend seems to like it," said Ellie.

Danny's core did a little bounce when she said friend. He really did want to be friends. "What can I say," he said, shrugging. "Better a joke, than a fist?"

Dmitri smiled broadly. Damien groaned, arcing his long body back dramatically.

There wasn't a line for the punch, or even very many people around the snack table at all. What few people had been there moved off, glaring, when the five children descended on the table. He caught Ellie sticking her tongue out at a woman who was giving them a particularly dirty look.

They gathered cups of punch and piled tiny plates high with pastries before retreating to a nearby corner to resume their conversation.

Danny was having a harder time following it this time, though. He felt tired. Drained. A little overheated. He wasn't used to wearing this suit. He went back to refill his punch a few times.

Words started to blur together. The inside of his head felt staticky. But he also... really content... New friends... His core felt strange...

"Danny?" a hand on his shoulder made him flinch, which made him sway rather dangerously. "Are you okay?"

Danny blinked at Ellie. "I don't feel..." he mumbled. What? What didn't he feel?

"Did someone spike the punch?"

"There's a room back here, you can lie down."

"I'll go get Father, he'll know what to do."

He was gently guided out of the ballroom, most of his weight resting on Dustin. There was a reason he should stay in the ballroom, but he couldn't remember what it was. Was someone missing?

Wait, spike the punch? Was he _drunk?_

The thought was lost almost instantly. His core, and therefore his mind, was lost in delirium and delight. New friends! But they needed his help, there was something wrong with them. But he could help! So, everything was good, and he loved his new friends very much.

The place they took him to was darker and quieter than before. They laid him down on something soft and squishy, and he giggled, weakly. They were talking. They might have been talking to him, but he couldn't understand _aaaaaaaaa_nything.

He was so happy, helping his new friends.

The light changed as the door to the room opened. Music and other noises from the party briefly grew in volume, and were muffled again as the door swung closed.

"Well, that was faster than expected."

Vlad's voice briefly pulled him back into lucidity, and he struggled to sit up before collapsing again. No, all his energy had to go to his friends. They needed it. No time for Vlad.

Still, he glared up at the older man as he leaned over him. There were two Vlads. Was that because he was seeing double, or because Vlad had split himself?

The question was answered as Vlad picked Danny up. Danny was distressingly limp. He couldn't redirect any energy to his muscles, and thinking was hard. There was a thunk, and one of the walls opened up, revealing a hidden staircase. Vlad carried Danny down, but that was okay, because his new friends came with them, and- Oh!

There was another new friend down here!

Danny's core reached out to his newest new friend.

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He came back to himself with only the sensation that something was _wrong wrong wrong. _He jolted up, only to be stopped by a pressure across his chest and shoulders. He squinted, trying to see. His mask was gone, and the clothing he was in felt different, looser.

"What'd you do with'm?" he demanded.

"They're just in the next room, Daniel," said Vlad. "Calm down. I had no idea you'd get attached to them so quickly. I had a whole program for this week for you to get to know them."

"No," said Danny. He finally managed to get his eyes open. He was in Vlad's lab, lying on something padded. He'd been strapped down, and there were various IVs running into his arms. One of them was a lurid ectoplasmic green.

"No?"

"Won't calm down. What did you do to me?"

"Nothing."

"This isn't nothing." He finally managed to find Vlad with his eyes. The man was sitting almost behind him. It was difficult to bend his eyes to look that way.

"Oh, very well then. I increased the energy levels in your core, allowing you to wake up and us to have this lovely conversation. The rest, my dear boy, was all you. An instinctive reaction on the part of your core, although you, as usual, took it too far."

"What?"

Vlad walked around the tube, to a position where Danny could see him more easily. "This will require some explanation. I realize this situation isn't intuitive, to one such as yourself." Vlad waved a dismissive hand.

Danny scowled, but had the presence of mind to bite his tongue. He needed to know what was going on. He was beginning to suspect that Vlad had drugged him, put something in the food or punch that only affected ghosts and half ghosts, but he had a feeling that wasn't quite right.

"After you and Jasmine blew up my football field, I came to the conclusion that you would never accept me as a father," said Vlad, with the air of someone narrating a tragedy. "I was forced to reconsider my methods and goals. You see, Daniel, all I really wanted was to be loved."

In Danny's personal opinion, that was a load of crap. Vlad, more than anything else, wanted _control, _he wanted _power. _

""To be loved," continued Vlad, "and _understood._" He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "And who could understand me, but a fellow half ghost? So, I decided to make one."

"Wait, wait, hold up," said Danny, beyond horrified. "You _made_ someone a half ghost? _You killed someone?"_

"What? No, don't be ridiculous, Daniel. I cloned you."

He pointed at something behind and to the left of Danny, and Danny craned his head back to see a tall, vertical tube full of ectoplasm. Inside floated a boy who looked just like Danny in Phantom form. The boy's eyes were closed, and there were tubes and wires connected to his body.

_"That's just as bad. _Oh my gosh, Vlad, you can't just clone people! Why didn't you clone yourself?"

Vlad's face twisted like he had just bitten into a lemon. "I had attempted to do so, initially, however, my ectoacne and other instabilities in my makeup precluded me from doing so. Cloning you was my only choice."

"We cured your ectoacne," said Danny.

"Yes. But I had already started this project. It did take time to grow your brother into maturity, Daniel. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, David was unstable."

"David?"

"The name given to him by your other siblings. Do keep up, Daniel."

"Other- You made _more_ clones? _Why_?"

"I had done some research," said Vlad. "Into how ghosts normal reproduce and stabilize children. I discovered that family members, those ghosts with similar ectosignatures and core properties, play a major role in stabilizing and providing energy to newly formed ghosts. My ectosignature was too different from David's, but I thought that if I could just make _one _stable clone..." Vlad trailed off, the look in his eyes almost haunted. "I tried everything. A mix of your DNA and ectosignature and mine, extra DNA from your sister, your mother, even your father. Nothing worked!" Vlad threw his hands up, angrily. "They are all _more _stable, but none of them are _completely _stable!"

It took Vlad several seconds to calm down, during which Danny put a few more puzzle pieces together.

"Ellie and the others, they're all clones?" That hurt, for some reason. Did they like him at all, or were they only being nice to him because Vlad told them to.

"Yes," said Vlad. "Danielle is the most stable." He smoothed down the front of his lab coat.

"So, you need me to stabilize them. That's why you drugged me?"

"I didn't _drug _you Daniel. Your collapse was a surprising to me as it was to you. Based on my readings, I can only conclude that your core recognized Danielle, Dustin, Damien, and Dmitri as family, registered their instability, and attempted to rectify it by boosting your ectosignature and sending them energy. Unfortunately, the effort overwhelmed you. You are only a child yourself, and..." Vlad trailed off, almost sheepish, "it is my understanding that they process is usually undertaken by multiple adult family members, and with only one child at a time."

"Great," said Danny. "And you didn't plan for that to happen at all."

"I had believed that you would bond with them more slowly," said Vlad. "That your reaction wouldn't be so extreme."

"Well, it was," said Danny. "But they're stable now, right? So, you can let me go." He tugged against the restraints again. He _hoped _they were stable. He had heard his parents talk about what happened to destabilized ghosts.

"Sadly," said Vlad, sounding like he was gritting his teeth, "that is an incorrect assumption."

There was a long pause.

"I want to make a deal with you, Daniel," said Vlad.

"You- Are you _asking me for help?_" Not that Danny could refuse. For one, he was tied up, for another...

"I suppose. For my children. They are children, Daniel, and they _will _die if they aren't stabilized. Painfully. Perhaps not today, but within the month."

Danny's heart clenched, and his core shivered. Even if Ellie and the others had been tricking him, he didn't want them to die. He would do what Vlad asked, if it stabilized his... cousins.

He was going to go with cousins for now. Siblings felt a little too close at the moment, and 'clones' was sort of dehumanizing. They were the ones who had started it, calling each other cousins.

But even if he was going to cooperate with Vlad, that didn't mean he wasn't going to try to get as many concessions out of Vlad as possible. True, he wasn't going to get very many, Vlad was holding the cards in this game, but he still might be able to get something.

"What kind of deal?" he asked, cautiously.

"You cooperate with stabilizing the cores of my children," said Vlad, "and I will make sure your little town stays safe and protected. Fail to cooperate, and not only will Amity Park be exposed and helpless against any ridiculous poltergeist that comes through your parents' portal, but you will be unconscious. As demonstrated earlier, you do not need to be awake for your core to be at work."

Danny frowned. Apart from the threat (honestly, Vlad was borderline pathological) that was a pretty good deal. Heck, Danny wasn't even supposed to be back in Amity Park until the end of the week.

It was a good deal... too good.

"Exactly how long do you think it'll take, anyway?" he asked. "To stabilize all of them?"

"I don't know, Daniel, this hasn't ever been done before."

Danny scowled. He hated it when Vlad said his name with that supercilious tone of voice. "Fine. How long does it take with _ghosts, _Vlad? You _said _you researched it, didn't you?"

"The time varied based on a number of factors," said Vlad.

"It takes a long time, doesn't it?" asked Danny. "I want a cover story. One that doesn't make me disappearing for Ancients know how long my fault. I want to be able to talk to Sam, Tucker, and Jazz whenever I want. _And _I want to be able to veto anything too invasive or dangerous."

"You're hardly in a position to make demands."

Danny made a shrugging motion, hoping that Vlad wouldn't call his bluff.

"I can do the first," said Vlad, finally, "but if you want it to hold up, the second is impossible. The last is ridiculous. Cooperation means full cooperation, nothing less."

That was about what he had expected. "If I can't communicate with them, they'll just show up here, guns blazing. You know that."

"I think I can handle three human teenagers."

"Sure, but do you want to _have_ to?"

Vlad frowned. "I will consider the merits of your suggestion," he said. "I'm impressed, actually. I didn't think you had it in you, to bargain with lives on the line." Danny swallowed to keep himself from gagging. "But in the meantime, do you agree to cooperate, or no?" He drummed his fingers on something Danny couldn't see.

Between Danny's Obsession, and what were apparently ghostly family bonding instincts, there really wasn't any way for him to say no. "Yes, fine, whatever. I'll cooperate. You can let me out of these things, now." He pulled at the restraints again.

"Oh, no," said Vlad, smiling, then moving out of Danny's line of sight. "Those are for your own protection. You see, your core isn't really mature enough to cope with sustaining five other cores, so we are going to have to significantly supplement your ectoenergy levels."

There was a small click, and the table Danny was on started moving backwards. After a few inches, it angled up, until it was vertical. Danny discovered that there were little platforms under his bare feet, and other supports to keep him upright in his new position. Directly to his left, floated the clone, David, in the glass tube. Danny's core seemed to strain in that direction. His eyelids fluttered.

Vlad walked back over and pulled something with two tubes attached to it from the space over Danny's head. "Open up," he said.

"Why?" asked Danny.

"This is a breathing mask," said Vlad. "It will supply you with oxygen and atomized ectoplasm at three times the levels generally available in the Ghost Zone. But this part," he tapped part of the mask that was fitted with something like a bite guard, "needs to go _inside _your mouth."

After a moment of hesitation, Danny opened his mouth, and Vlad inserted the breathing mask. Almost at once, Danny could tell the difference. The air coming through was just so much _richer. _

Vlad pressed the cup of the mask over Danny's mouth and nose and sealed the edges with tape.

"Now," Vlad said, as he began pulling other things from the ceiling and attaching them to Danny, "in a few minutes, I'm going to start giving you instructions. I want you to follow them. Cooperate, do you understand? The first thing I want to do is stabilize David enough that he is no longer dependent on the containment chamber to survive."

Danny was getting a bad feeling. Many of the wires Vlad was attaching to him mirrored wires attached to David. Vlad attached a few more wires, and inserted several needles. Danny tried to hiss at those, but the mask acted as an effective gag. Finally, Vlad inserted two small plugs into Danny's ears and stepped back, half smiling.

As Danny had almost expected, a curved glass barrier sprang from behind him and encircled him, trapping him in a chamber much like the one David occupied. Ectoplasm began to bubble up from below, from a source Danny couldn't see.

"You will be submerged shortly." Vlad's voice rang clear in the earbuds. "This will allow you to intake ectoplasm through your skin. You will also be in the same environment as David."

The ectoplasm hit the soles of Danny's feet, and he flinched. It was rising rapidly.

"Do try not to panic," said Vlad. "Now, I want you to focus on David."

It was at Danny's knees, now. He took a deep breath, reassuring himself that the mask was in place. He wasn't going to drown. He looked over at David. What did it even mean, to focus on him? Danny had no idea what he was like, not really. Like him, he guessed, but not?

"With your ghost sense, Daniel," said Vlad. "Not your eyes."

Danny scowled at him, trying to distract himself from the fact that the ectoplasm was up to his chest. He closed his eyes and tried to do... that. It wasn't something he normally did and had no idea how to go about it but-

Ah. Oh, there it was. There he was, Danny's new friend. That was easier than expected. Danny's core began to purr, some of the euphoria from earlier in the night returning.

The ectoplasm closed over his head.

"Good," said Vlad, his voice slightly warped. "It appears that you have connected. Now, I am going to stimulate and amplify that connection. I want you to stay focused."

Of course Danny would stay focused. He was helping his friend, wasn't he? He _always _stayed focused when it came to that.

Several of the places Vlad had attached wires began to tingle. His core jumped and he twitched. Everything briefly took on a very severe cast.

It was very hard to think, after that.

.

Vlad smiled at his readouts. Securing Daniel's cooperation beforehand had been worthwhile. Had he been struggling, it would have been difficult to establish the connection to this extent. David's energy and stability levels were increasing slowly but steadily. Despite the measure he was taking, Daniel's were dropping. Some of the data concerning his human half was less than ideal. That would be troublesome to deal with later on.

He took a moment to check in on his duplicate upstairs. The party was going well. Jack and Maddie hadn't noticed Daniel's absence yet. With luck, they wouldn't until the next morning.

Overall, tonight had been fruitful. With Daniel, he would be able to stabilize all five of the clones, and, perhaps, he would even be able to win over Daniel. He had seen the relaxed smile on his face when he had been with the clones. Vlad knew how powerful ghost instincts could be.

He stood up and walked over to the room where he had asked his children to wait. They should be told that their elder siblings would make a full recovery shortly.


	53. Chapter 53

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Interview With a Ghost Part 3 (Break)

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The call came shortly after Danny had informed Tucker of his (disastrous) interview with the police and had left to go fight a giant bird ghost that had made its way to Elmerton. That bird wouldn't know what hit it. Well, it would know that _Danny _hit it, presumably, but not that Danny was hitting it so hard due to repressed anxiety regarding his body and the fact the police had it.

Tucker had been, as it so happened, waiting for the call.

"Hey, Sam," he said, not bothering to so much as look at the caller ID.

"So, Danny's gotten himself into a mess."

"Yep," said Tucker. "A pretty big one. Not all his fault, though."

"He _did _make it worse."

"Yeah. What are we going to do about it?"

"How do you feel about breaking and entering?"

"You're going to have to be more specific," said Tucker. He rolled over on his bed to stare at the ceiling. "We do that pretty frequently."

"The city morgue. ME's office, specifically."

"There'll be guards," said Tucker, "what with the rumors and all."

"I've got the Box Ghost in my thermos. He's a good distraction."

"Transport?"

"Working on it. You'll take care of the security cameras and locks?"

"As long as they're digital," said Tucker, pulling up his data on the city cameras as they spoke. "The outside ones are, but I don't know about the insides. There might be analog machines in there. Tapes. Can't do anything to anything not on a network."

"I know, I know. Hey, maybe you could send a text to whoever's supposed to be guarding it tonight? Get them to leave?"

"Mmm. Maybe. If I could figure out who that would be."

"That could backfire, though," said Sam. "If they don't send messages like that. Sorry, I'm just thinking out loud."

Tucker pulled up a building map in another window. "I think we'll probably need more than just us, though. Remember the first time we had to move... _it?_"

"Yeah, but who else are we going to get to do this?"

"Jazz, maybe? She has a car, too. She can be transportation."

"Tucker, we're not looping Danny in on this. Do you really think that _Jazz_ is going to be any more cool with this than Danny?"

"I don't know, Jazz can be pretty savage when it comes to protecting Danny."

The phone made Sam's considering hum crackle with static. "We _do _need transport," said Sam.

"Yeah. What were you looking into for that, anyway?"

"Ugh. Cult connections."

"Dude. Danny would _not _be happy if we gave his _you know_ to a cult."

"Yeah, but he can steal it back from the cult with no guilt, unlike with the police."

"But what if he just gave it back to the police?" asked Tucker, looking up the city's purchasing records, trying to determine if they had any cameras that used tapes or that weren't internet connected in or near the morgue.

"Come on, he wouldn't do that."

"Probably not, but he does do weird stuff, sometimes. Like agree to an interview with the police and almost give away his secret identity."

"Yeah," said Sam. "You keep checking how feasible this is, and I'll call Jazz, okay?"

"Sure," said Tucker. "Talk to you later."

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Jazz eased her car into the alley behind the building that housed the city morgue and ME's office.

"Stop here," said Tucker. "I can see their network."

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Jazz whispered, putting the car into park.

"You don't have to whisper," said Tucker, sitting in the passenger's seat and typing away at his mobile workstation (he insisted that it wasn't a laptop). "No one is going to hear you. Okay, yeah, I'm on their wifi. Give me a minute."

"Take your time," said Sam, who was lying down in the back seat, dressed in blacks and grays, thin gloves over her hands. "Were you guys able to sneak out okay without Danny?"

"Yeah," said Tucker.

"It _was _a bit trickier without him," said Jazz. She was lucky that her parents wore earplugs to sleep, and she was fairly certain Danny was out of the house entirely. Fighting a ghost, probably. She always told him to wake her up before he left, so at least one person knew where he was and could help him, but he never did.

"Okay, Jazz, you can get closer, now, then Sam can hop out and Box 'em."

"That was fast," said Jazz, starting the car forward again.

"What can I say?" said Tucker. "Pure talen-"

Something in the car started shrieking. Jazz jumped, momentarily pressing too hard on the gas, and the car lurched forward. Sam swore.

"What is that?" asked Tucker, hands over his ears.

"Who care?" shouted Sam, over the noise. "Turn it off, turn it off!"

"It's the- It's the _anti-ecto alarm! _I _told _them not to put it on my car!" She leaned across Tucker and opened the glove box. Sure enough, a sleek chrome-and-green monstrosity sat in her poor, innocent glove box, flashing screens, dials, and indicator lights at them. The car cabin lit up like a disco.

Jazz and Tucker jabbed at buttons until the thing shut up.

"Okay," said Tucker. "I think we're going to have to abort. I'm gonna bet my aunt in Chicago heard that."

Jazz blushed. "Sorry guys," she said. She was going to have _words _with her parents after this. What if she'd been on the highway when that thing went off? They really didn't think these things through.

"We can't abort!" protested Sam. "We need to get the thing! Before they start running tests on it!"

Jazz started backing up the car.

"Yeah, I know, but we needed stealth. We don't have that anymore. Hold up, Jazz, I need to erase my presence from their system."

Sam grumbled. "What set it off, anyway. Boxy?"

"No, it looks like this was calibrated to only go off for a class seven or above," said Tucker, peering at the alarm.

"Class seven?" repeated Jazz. "But... You don't think _Danny-"_

"No, he's in the suburbs, dealing with Skulker." Jazz looked over at Tucker's computer to see the Ghost Watch app icon blinking in the corner of his screen. "This is Vlad. _Crap."_

The door made a thunk when Sam swung it too far out and it hit a wall. Jazz winced, but rolled down her window. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

"We can't let _Vlad _get away with it!"

"And what are you going to do? Sam!"

"Getting back into the cameras," muttered Tucker, typing furiously.

"I'm calling Danny," said Jazz.

"Won't answer, he's fighting Skulker."

"Well, maybe he's finished!" said Jazz, dialing.

There was a flare of blue white light from up ahead and an angry shout. A glowing silhouette joined Sam's dark one. She had released the Box Ghost.

Jazz groaned. "Why did she do that _now?_"

"Shhh!" said Tucker. Something began to make little beeping noises. "Oh, jeez."

"What's that?"

"_My _ghost detector. It's tuned to Vlad." He opened his door half way. "Sam!" he shouted. "Incoming!"

She pressed herself to the side of the alley just in time to avoid a dark, horned figure swooping down on her from above. The Box Ghost was not so lucky.

"... and it's got a lower range," said Tucker, faintly.

Vlad Plasmius, rimmed in fuchsia light, floated twenty feet in the air. He had one hand around the Box Ghost's neck, the other full of neon pink fire. "Oh," he said, his voice echoing clearly in the alleyway. "It's you. What are you doing here, pest?"

"Uhhhhh," said the Box Ghost as Sam tried to make her way back to the car.

"And with Daniel's little friends no less?"

Sam broke into a run, slammed Tucker's door shut, yanked open the passenger door behind him, and slid in. Jazz wasted no time in slamming on the gas. If her car got a few scrapes, so be it.

There was a second Vlad behind them. She dropped her phone and slammed on the brakes. It was still ringing.

Smiling like a villain from a slasher movie, this second Vlad stepped intangibly into the car.

"Well, now," he said, smoothly. "What's this? Daniel's friends, but no Daniel? Whatever are the three of you doing _here _of all places? And at this hour?"

"What are _you _doing here?" asked Sam.

"No need to be rude, Samantha, dear," said Vlad. "Daniel doesn't know about your little excursion, does he? He's still across town, occupied with Skulker. You can tell him he won't have to worry anymore. I'll take good care of his body."

"Dude," said Tucker, "do you have _any _idea how gross that sounds?"

Vlad scowled and flicked his fingers. A ray of pink burned a quarter sized hole in the back of Tucker's headrest.

"If he had a problem with me taking it, he should have hidden it better," said Vlad. "I have no desire to have the existence of half ghosts revealed simply because Daniel hid his corpse in same park the police have their annual picnic!"

"Actually," said Tucker, "they usually have it in Marley Park. Aren't you the mayor? Shouldn't you _know _this?"

Vlad's scowl deepened further. "Drive safely, Jasmine." The duplicate dissolved into magenta and pink mist.

Sam sneezed. "Gross, I think I got him in my nose."

"Guys," said Tucker. "I've got alerts on the police lines, someone reported a disturbance. We really need to go."

.

"Vlad stole my," Danny waved his hands in the air in place of the word. "Are you serious? And you guys know, because _you _were going to try to steal it, and you _didn't tell me?"_ His friends and sister looked sheepishly at the ground. "Why did you wait 'til now to tell me? I've been having anxiety attacks about it all night. I thought that the stupid ME had, I don't know, insomnia or something! It was _Vlad?_"

"Yeah," said Sam.

"Argh!" said Danny, starting to pace. Thank goodness his room was large enough to have a good pace in, even with three other teens in it. "I don't even want to think what he could be doing with it, but I am! What if- What if he goes full-bore Frankenstein and freaking reanimates it? What am I supposed to do then? And the police! They're going to think I did it, and there goes my credibility with the police!"

"You were on Ghost Watch fighting Skulker when it happened," offered Tucker.

"Ghosts can be in two places at once! The police know that! That's not a good enough alibi!" He put his hands on his face and groaned. "Am I going to have to break into Vlad's house? Again? He has to have a ghost shield up around it by now. And a human shield. And a ghost-human shield. I'm dead."

"You're not _dead, _Danny," said Jazz.

"I am dead. In ever sense of the word. Dead, I tell you, dead."

"Deep breaths," said Jazz. "You're hyperventilating."

It was true. He sat down on his bed and buried his face in his hands. "I don't even know what secret lair he's brought it to."

"Wait, you mean, you can't tell where it is?" asked Sam.

"No," said Danny. "If I could, I would have known when Vlad took it."

There was a howl from downstairs as someone rang the doorbell. Danny jumped up. "I'll get it," he said. The group bundled down the stairs, trying to keep up with him.

Before opening the door, Danny glanced out the window.

"Oh, heck, it's them."

"Them who?" asked Jazz.

"_Them. _The detectives!"

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"Alright," said Jones, looking at the place where Phantom's body should have been but wasn't. "This is officially too big for just one team. Paterson, Collins, what were you going to do today?"

"Interview high school kids," said Collins.

"Right. You're still going to do that. I'm going to get Murphy and Madison on the break-in, talking to witnesses, but first, your opinions."

"It wasn't Phantom," said Collins. "He could have just come in and taken it, at any time, not just the middle of the night."

"And he wouldn't have needed to take out the cameras and security system," said Paterson, looking over her shoulder at the tech people set up in one corner.

"It was a human. Or a ghost who didn't want us to know who they are," finished Collins.

"Great," said Jones. "That's what I thought, too. I was hoping you'd tell me I was wrong."

"Sorry, cap," said Collins.

"Go on, get out of here," said Jones, making a shooing motion.

.

"Still can't believe that his name is Wesley Weston," said Collins. "_Or _that he has a record for trespassing and stalking a classmate and claiming that he's a ghost."

"Want to bet that the classmate in question is Fenton?" asked Paterson.

"No thanks," said Collins. "It would have been better if the victim's name hadn't been withheld." He avoided the word 'wish.'

"Yeah, yeah," said Paterson. She knocked on the door.

A balding red haired man with thick glasses opened the door. "Oh," he said. "Please tell me this isn't about Wesley again. Do I need a lawyer?"

"He didn't do anything," said Collins, quickly. "We just want to ask him a few questions."

"It's unrelated to the stalking charges, which were dropped," added Paterson.

"Great," grumbled the man. He turned. "Wesley! The police want to talk to you!"

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"Well," said Collins, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "That was enlightening."

"His room belongs on a movie set," said Paterson. "Jeez Louise, we're going to have to keep an eye on that kid. He has a freaking conspiracy theory board."

"It was pretty convincing, though. The kid can talk."

"We need to confirm his data, though."

"Yeah. Talk to more witnesses. See if Fenton really does run off whenever Phantom shows up."

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"Fenton?" asked Paulina Sanchez, wrinkling her nose so prettily that Paterson suspected she practiced the expression in the mirror. "What about him? I thought we were talking about _Phantom_. _Mi amor."_ She leaned a little farther into the doorway. She had not let the detectives inside. "Not _Fenton._"

"We're investigating a number of different angles, Miss," said Collins. "Now, if you could tell us, does he seem to leave class before ghost fights break out."

"Yeah," said Paulina. "He's got some kind of sixth sense thing going on, but he's _such _a coward. He only ever uses it to run away. Doesn't even _try _to warn anyone else! I don't know how his friends stand him."

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"You're talking about Phantom?" asked Sophia LaMar. "You'll want my parents. I'm only an initiate. I'll go get them." She closed the door.

"Do we run away from the cult house?" asked Paterson.

"No, it'll make us look bad."

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"You know," said Paterson, "if I'd wanted a lecture on how time doesn't exist, I'd drive over to the university and sit in on a class on relativity. Not whatever that was."

"At least now we know that ghosts can time travel?" asked Collins, weakly.

"Let's hurry up and get to Fenton's house," said Paterson. "Do you think he'll even talk to us?"

"Who knows?" asked Collins.

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**To be continued tomorrow.**


	54. Chapter 54

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Interview With a Ghost, part four (Strange)

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They had asked the Fenton parents for an interview with Daniel Fenton to ask him about things he might have seen at school. They had agreed, heartily, but had insisted on staying because 'the kids are a little biased towards Phantom, teens, you know,' and they wanted to keep the record straight.

The other two children had, with extreme reluctance, gone home. His sister, however, had refused to leave, saying that she knew just as much about things at the school as Danny, and they might as well question her at the same time. Collins couldn't really argue with that, and he had elbowed Paterson when she tried.

Daniel looked very small and meek against the large armchair he was perched on. Nothing at all like Phantom, who projected personality and confidence even when nervous.

Collins could see how he had gotten away with... whatever he had gotten away with... for so long. He still wasn't entirely convinced that Fenton _was _Phantom. It seemed pretty incredible, and there wasn't any physical evidence. Especially with the body gone.

Paterson took out a pad of paper and a recorder. "Do you mind if I record this?" she asked. "For record keeping purposes."

"Not at all!" said Jack, grinning. "We're glad to be of help!"

Daniel looked at the recorder as if he thought he'd be ill. He looked pale. Almost green. Was that because he was a ghost, or was he really just that nervous?

"Alright," said Collins. "Do you see Phantom around Casper High?"

"Not really," said Daniel.

"Everyone does," said Jasmine.

The siblings glanced at each other.

"I try to stay away from the ghost fights," said Daniel, shrugging.

"Yes. Your classmates seem to think that you have some kind of sixth sense, as you always leave class right before an attack."

Daniel's eyebrows pinched together in genuine confusion. "They think _what?_" He shook his head. "I just leave when I need to go," he said.

Paterson looked up from her notepad. "Go as in...?"

"You know, _go_," said Daniel, a blush dusting his features with pink.

"I see," said Paterson. Daniel blushed harder.

"Have you ever spoken to Phantom?" asked Collins.

"Yes," said Jasmine, crisply, to murmurs of disapproval from her parents. "He saved me from from Spectra. The ghost who masqueraded as a psychologist."

"I remember that," said Paterson. "Old Elroy had that case." It was from before the existence of ghosts had been widely accepted, even in Amity Park. "You were one of her victims?"

"I'm the one she tried to blow up."

"Ah," said Collins. "And what did you talk about?"

"With Spectra?"

"With Phantom."

"Nothing much," said Jasmine. "Not that I remember, anyway. It was over a year ago."

"Try to remember," said Collins.

Jasmine shrugged. "I think it was basically just agreeing that Spectra was terrible."

"Have you had any other interactions with Phantom?"

"None worth mentioning," said Jasmine.

What a strange way to phrase that. Collins decided not to call her on it, yet. Even with Paterson pointedly poking his ankle with her toe.

"Daniel, what about you?"

"It's Danny," the boy corrected. "I've never really talked to him. Unless you want to count things like 'look out!'"

"Nothing about his origins, then?"

"No?" said Danny.

"Have you heard anything about his origins from anywhere else?"

"We already told you about that," interrupted Maddie, frowning. "His origins are unknown, but he's existed for hundreds of years, at a minimum."

"Yes, but we'd like to hear from Danny and Jasmine," said Collins, giving Maddie his best professional smile. He turned back to Danny, expectantly.

"Someone once told me they thought he was a plague doctor, but, like, updated. I don't remember who, though."

"Right," said Collins. "Now, we'd like you to think back to about two years ago. Call it late summer, early fall. Did anything strange happen around that time?"

"Yeah," said Danny. "The Lunch Lady attacked the school for the first time. I don't remember the exact date, but it was right before the meat-vegetable protests."

"It was that early?" asked Collins, surprised. "That's months before the first recorded attack! Are you sure there was a ghost?"

"Pretty sure, yeah," said Danny, crossing his arms.

"Hey! That's about when we saw Phantom for the first time!" exclaimed Jack.

"Is it?" asked Collins.

"Yeah! He stole our prototype Fenton thermos! I still don't understand how he got it working." The last was a grumble.

"Interesting. And did anything strange happen other than that? Anything out of the norm?"

"Well," said Maddie, thoughtful, "we got our portal working about a month before that. Danny did, anyway."

"Did he? How?"

"Knocked a loose wire back into place!" boomed Jack, laughing. "That's my boy."

Danny's face was whey-colored again. Interesting.

Oh, hell. The portal definitely had something to do with all of this, didn't it.

"How does your portal work, exactly, anyway?"

"Excellent question!"

Fifteen minutes later, Collins had no better idea of how their portal worked except that it involved a great deal of ectoplasm and electricity, both of which they had found on the corpse. He couldn't help but think that he had finally discovered how Phantom had died.

And hearing Jack and Maddie, the boy's _parents _talk about the portal with such obvious pride while Danny squirmed in the armchair, looking for an escape...

"Thank you," said Collins, quickly, while Jack drew a breath. "I think that's all we need for today."

"But-" started Paterson.

"It's really all we need," repeated Collins. He saw Danny relax, marginally. "Just one more thing. Do you know anything about the break in at the city morgue last night?"

Various expressions flicked over the Fentons' faces. Jack's and Maddie's were blank. Danny's was was angry. Jasmine's was, surprisingly, guilty.

Did _she _steal the body? Collins would have never guessed it. The image she presented was too neat and mannered.

"Was it a ghost?" asked Maddie. "I'm afraid we can't do anything about it, otherwise."

"Right," said Collins. "We'll contact you if that evolves to be the case. And-"

"Oh, I can't take it anymore!" exclaimed Paterson. She pointed at Danny. "Are you Phantom?"

Danny jumped about a foot. "Wh-What? Nooooooooo. No, I'm not Phantom. I'm alive, aren't I?"

Damn. If that wasn't all but a confession.

The other Fentons started to laugh. The adults heartily. Jasmine uneasily.

"You've been listening to what's-his-name, haven't you? The West boy?"

"Weston," corrected Maddie. "No matter how many times we explained things to him..." She sighed. "I think there's something wrong with him, to be honest. But just to assuage your doubts..." She stood up and walked over to Danny. "Danny, do you mind."

"Nope," said Danny, standing up and holding out his wrist.

Maddie beckoned the detectives forward. "Here," she said, "feel this." She tapped her fingers on Danny's wrist.

"Go ahead," said Danny, staring up at him with a mix of apprehension and determination.

Collins put his fingers on Danny's wrist, on his pulse point. Danny's skin was smooth and cool, but not at all corpselike, or what Collins imagined a ghost would feel like.

"I have a pulse," said Danny. "Ghosts don't." Sure enough, Collins' fingers detected a slow but steady _thump thump thump._

Maddie nodded. "Their closest equivalent is more of a constant rush. I could explain the science... but you were just leaving."

"Yes. Sorry about that. My partner can be a bit susceptible to conspiracy theories. I had to talk her out of hiring a psychic, once."

"Thank goodness you did," said Maddie, smiling. "Almost all psychics are fake."

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"They don't believe it," said Danny, watching the detectives pull away from the curb below from the window of his room.

"Mom and dad? Of course not," said Jazz. "They won't believe you're Phantom unless you show them outright."

"No, the detectives. They don't believe I'm human. They still think I'm Phantom."

"Danny," said Jazz, cautiously. "Don't do anything rash."

"It isn't like I can make this any worse," said Danny. "I'm going to talk to them."

.

"What was that?" complained Paterson. "I never tried to hire a psychic!"

"Yeah, but you _did _agree that we wouldn't out Phantom in front of his parents. He said he doesn't want his family to know about him, and I don't want an angry ghost trying to throttle me! He can bench press a bus! I don't want his hands anywhere near my throat." He inhaled deeply and sighed. "At least we know what did him in."

"Do you?" asked a very cold voice.

It was a testament to Collins' steely nerves and rigorous police training that he didn't immediately crash the car upon finding a ghost in the back seat. Paterson nearly threw herself out of the car.

"Hi, Phantom," he said, instead, looking at the young ghost in the rear view mirror. "I don't suppose you know what happened to your body."

The ghost scowled. "It wasn't me. I _told _you to stop messing with stuff."

"Who, then? Your sister?"

Phantom's scowl deepened to something like rage. "Leave her out of this."

"Oh, god, you really are Fenton," said Paterson.

In her defense, Collins hadn't _completely _believed it, either.

Varied emotions passed over the ghost's face. "Come on, you don't believe Wes, do you?"

"There's other evidence," said Collins, voice wavering just a little. "I don't know how you're keeping up a pulse, or the rest of your human disguise, but you died in that portal, didn't you?"

Phantom was silent for a moment, then he reached through Paterson's chair and neatly plucked her recorder from her jacket, along with her phone. He tossed the phone into the seat next to him and crushed the recorder. Then he started riffling through Collins' pockets.

"Is that really necessary?" asked Collins. He guided the car to the side of the road and put it into park.

"You made it necessary," said Phantom. He pulled out Collins' phone as well and gave it a once over. "Look," he said. "I'm sort of," he paused, "upset that you guys dug up my body and then freaking lost it."

"_Lost _it-"

"Fine. Got it stolen from you by one of my enemies. One of my most dangerous enemies. Okay? Happy? Are you starting to understand why I wanted this left alone?"

"Are you trying to say that this isn't about your family not knowing you're dead?" asked Collins.

"Of course it's about that!" exclaimed Phantom. "It's just about half a dozen other things at the same time! You knowing about me could get me killed. Knowing about me could get _you_ killed. The only reason Wes isn't dead is because he's completely ridiculous and no one believes him! You're credible!"

"By that enemy you mentioned?" asked Paterson, having regained some composure.

"Yeah," said Phantom. "He's got an interest in it not getting out."

"Why?" asked Paterson.

"Reasons," said Phantom, stubbornly.

"Does he have the same thing going on as you?"

Phantom crossed his arms and shrugged.

"One second," said Collins, "what do you mean, kill _you?_ You're already dead."

"It's a figure of speech," mumbled Phantom. "Either way, the GIW would be more than happy to cut me open. Do you have any idea what they do to ghosts?"

"You- you're not actually dead, are you?" asked Collins. "Holy-"

"Yes, I am," said Phantom, quickly.

"How did you manage the pulse trick, then?"

"Lots of ghosts can do that. My parents don't know everything."

"You're a terrible liar. How the hell does that work? This- Ghost powers while alive?"

"I _am _dead," repeated Phantom. "How do you explain the body?"

"Half of it was missing," said Paterson.

Silence.

"I'm begging you to let this go," said Phantom. "People are going to get hurt. _I'm _going to get hurt."

"You don't think we'd let the GIW have you?" asked Paterson.

"I don't think it's a matter of 'let.' I-" he sighed and buried his face in his hands. "Ugh, I can't believe I made this even worse. What are you going to do?"

"We-" said Collins. Honestly, he had no idea. He looked at Paterson, who shrugged. "It isn't up to us, it's up to the captain."

"You can't tell more people!"

"Then you tell him. Come with us," said Paterson. "It's just one more, and he knows all of our suspicions, anyway." That wasn't completely true.

"If you really wanted to convince us not to, you could tell us more about your terrible enemy who may or may not be like you."

Phantom shook his head. "It's not worth it," he said, floating halfway out of his seat. "I'm going home."

"Wait," said Collins. "Your accident- It really was an accident, wasn't it? Your parents didn't-"

Phantom's face scrunched up. "Of course it was an accident. I was messing around someplace I shouldn't have been because of a dare. Are we done, now? Right up until you decide to ruin what's left of my life, anyway."

"Do you have a cell phone?" asked Paterson. "So we can call you, instead of your parents, if necessary." She offered up her notepad.

Phantom jerked it out of her hands and scrawled something on the paper. "Goodbye," he said, shortly, before flying out of the car.

Paterson swore, loudly.

"Yeah," agreed Collins. "Yeah."

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**To be continued tomorrow.**


	55. Chapter 55

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Buried

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"What?" said Captain Jones, as Collins and Paterson finished explaining their understanding of the situation to him. "What? _What?_"

"That was my reaction, too," said Paterson. "Just, you know, internally."

Jones waved one hand, the other supporting his forehead.

"Er, sir?" said Collins, leaning forward, trying to catch the captain's eye. "How should we, you know, proceed on this? I don't think there's any precedent."

The captain bit back a groan. "No, there isn't. He was insistent that the Fentons, his parents, didn't do anything to him?"

"Yeah."

"But it still can't be- can't be healthy for a ghost or- or whatever he is to be there," said Jones. This was making his head hurt. "They have weapons, and even if it was an accident, he died and they- No one noticed!"

"That is pretty messed up," agreed Paterson.

"That's got to be child neglect, at least, right? Negligent homicide?"

Collins nodded. "We can't really charge them with that, though, can we? Not without revealing he's a ghost and getting the GIW and whoever stole the body coming down on us."

"That could just be something Phantom's saying, though," said Paterson. "We don't know if it's true or not."

"It felt true," said Collins. "He sounded like he was actually scared."

"But can we just let a kid- two kids, with his sister- be in a situation like that? Even if one of them is dead. _Especially _if one of them is dead. Or whatever Fenton, Phantom, whatever, is claiming to be."

"He didn't really claim to be anything, really," said Collins.

"Look, I already have a headache as it is. What it comes down to is, I don't want a kid to be living under the same roof as people who regularly and publicly shoot at him."

"So, what do we do?" asked Collins. "He doesn't want to leave, and I don't think we can make him, physically."

"No, we can't. But does he know that?"

"I think he's aware of his laser murder powers," said Paterson.

"He kept coming to talk to you, though," said Jones. He massaged the bridge of his nose. "There's something here..." Suddenly, it all came together. He clapped his hands. "He wants to keep his secret from the public, right? That's our leverage."

"Leverage?" asked Collins, dubiously. "Captain... he _is _still a teenager."

"I know, I know, but hear me out. We tell him, he has to let his parents know, and his parents, they have to make their house safe for him. If they're reasonable, they'll do it. If not, we can get them for, I don't know, going crazy and thinking their kid is a ghost, or having weapons all over their home. Obviously, he isn't. That's the position we'd maintain." Jones took a deep breath. "No need to expose him publicly, and, as long as he isn't, he'll have to _act _like he's human, right? If he wants to maintain the illusion?"

"I guess that would work," said Collins. "But... do we have to get child protective services involved? I don't see that going well."

"Not if everyone is reasonable," said Jones, a crazed look in his eyes.

"Hold up," said Paterson. "Doesn't this hinge on getting him to, you know, tell his parents?"

"Weapons. Home. Around children. And- We'll agree to bury the rest. Tear up documents. Hide everything. Cover for him. We already know what killed him. What's the point of bringing it into the light?"

Collins and Paterson both nodded slowly. "I'll call him," said Collins.

There was a knock on the door. The three glanced at each other.

"Come in," said the captain.

One of the officers stuck her head in. "Sir?" she said. "The mayor is here to see you."

.

Danny would have been at home, plotting with Jazz about how to get his body back, but, no, Skulker had to show up, again. He should have wrecked his suit instead of just sucking him into the thermos last night.

"Hah! Ghost child!" shouted Skulker. "Today I will have your pelt! I have new-!"

Danny screamed in frustration, the harmonics of his voice almost touching a ghostly wail. "Can you leave off about my pelt for like five seconds?" demanded Danny, attacking more aggressively than was his usual wont. One of Skulker's arms flew off his body, clattering on the tiles of a nearby roof. "Didn't you have enough of that, helping Vlad steal my corpse yesterday?" There, after days of dancing around the word, he had finally said it.

"Wait, your what?" asked Skulker, pirouetting awkwardly to avoid another barrage of ectoblasts.

"My. Corpse!" screamed Danny. "You helped him steal my corpse!"

"You don't have a corpse, you're still alive!"

"Shut up!" It was a good thing they were so far up. Even at the volumes they were speaking, they wouldn't be overheard. "You don't know anything! I'm half dead, so I have half a corpse, and I had to bury it, and then the police found it, and _you _helped Vlad _steal _it!" Danny was basically in tears at this point, hands clenching the metal of Skulker's chest so hard it buckled and warped, holding the unfortunate ghost above his head.

A number of complicated emotions passed over Skulker's face. "Uh," he said. "Time out?"

"What?" snarled Danny. He was more than ready to rip Skulker apart.

"Your body, whatever there is of it, did Plasmius really take it?"

"He basically gloated about it to my friends," said Danny.

Skulker's face twisted up, the metal plates it consisted of glinting in the sunlight. "Disturbing the remains of another ghost is... distasteful, at best." He shifted, obviously trying to get out of Danny's grip. Danny held on, tighter. "Let me go," he said. "I'll spread the word. There won't be a ghost in the Zone who'll work for Plasmius after this."

Danny sniffed. "I want it back," he said.

"Of course you do," said Skulker, nervously. "Just- let me go, alright, ghost child?" He paused. "Phantom?"

Danny relaxed his grip. Before Skulker could recover, he whipped out the thermos and sucked the other ghost in.

"I'll let you go," he grumbled. "Right into the Ghost Zone."

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Jones did not like Mayor Masters. A complete outsider, a stranger to Amity Park, the man had somehow wormed his way into the mayor's office. Jones had always suspected bribery, but had no evidence.

This visit of his... it was suspicious. Incredibly suspicious. The timing felt rotten. Masters had barely set foot inside the station before this.

Well, the timing and the questions he was asking. Jones was glad he had told everyone to deflect questions about the body and Phantom beforehand, no matter who was asking.

Jones fixed a grin onto his face. "I'm sorry, Mr. Masters," he said. "We can't discuss ongoing investigations."

"I think," said Masters, "that, as mayor, I am exempt from that rule. I am, after all, your boss."

"That's true," said Jones, "but this case is especially sensitive, and everyone is a suspect."

"I can't possibly be," said Masters. "I didn't even live here two years ago. I believe you are dancing around the subject, sir. Let us not have our personal feelings get in the way of things, hm?"

This bastard- There was no way he should have known that particular detail. Not without suborning the ME or her assistant.

Or stealing the records. The initial reports had gone missing with the body, and the computer system had been hacked.

Jones pressed his teeth together so hard they ached. He could feel them grinding inside his head.

"Why don't I give you an overview of what we know so far?" he asked, voice as sweet as he could stand to make it. "We'll start with Cameron over here. He's the head of our cult division, and a real wizard with computers."

If anyone could drive the man off, it was Cameron.

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"I didn't think babypop even had a corpse," said Ember, crossing his arms. "Are you sure he isn't just delusional?"

"He could be," said Skulker, "but that's not the point. _He _believes it. Do you really want to be dealing with him as a restless spirit?"

"Oh, god, no. He's already such a spoilsport. Can you imagine?" The blue flame her hair was drawn back into shuddered.

"I don't have to imagine," said Skulker. "He tore my arm off."

"He always tears your arms off," said Ember, dismissively.

"He's only going to get worse though," said Skulker, "if it really is his body. If Plasmius is doing anything to it. That anxiety. A person's body should be taken care of properly, not messed about with."

"Hey!" said Technus, who was on the other side of the room, fixing Skulker's mechanical body. "I donated MY body to SCIENCE! I'm perfectly fine."

"Yeah," said Ember. "Some people would disagree with that, but the thing is you chose to do that. Those're the rites _you_ wanted."

"Do you think I, the great TECHNUS, master of all things technological and-"

"No, actually, I don't think you knew," said Ember.

"Ohhhhh! I'll alter all your auxiliary cables, you little-!"

"Can we get back on topic?" asked Skulker, his high-pitched voice cutting above the argument. "We need to get Phantom's body back! Otherwise he'll be completely unbearable!"

The ghosts looked at each other. "Agreed," they said.

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Danny leaned over Tucker's shoulder. "Are you sure?" he said.

"Positive," said Tucker. "Sorry, man, but Vlad's super secret super villain stuff isn't online. Your body isn't mentioned at all. Nothing is. His internet enabled stuff is all pretty bland, compared to what we know he's doing. I mean, some of it is kind of sketchy, but it just isn't the same level."

"Anything we can blackmail him with?" asked Sam.

"Not really. We can't exactly say how we got it, after all, so he'd have plausible deniability."

Danny groaned. The groan turned into a long plume of blue mist. Danny growled. "Whoever is interrupting _this _time-"

"Whoa, calm down, man," said Tucker. "This is pretty normal."

Danny's phone began to ring. If this was those detective he was going to-

It was Jazz. "What?" he asked.

"The ecto-exodus alarm is going off," said Jazz. "Where are you?"

"Tucker's," said Danny. "I'm going to check it out."

"Be safe. Mom and Dad are out there with blasters, and they've notified the GIW."

"Noted," said Danny. He hung up, then turned to Sam and Tucker. "This is a big one, apparently. You might want to stay in."

"Good luck with that," said Tucker, pulling a ecto-rifle from beneath his desk. "I've been wanting to try this baby out."

"Please don't name it," said Sam.

"I think I will!" said Tucker.

"Just don't shoot if we're not fighting, okay? They might not be here to cause trouble. Don't give me that look, I'm trying out some optimism."

Before his friends could say anything about that, he flew up through the roof. From there, he had no problem picking out the crowd of ghosts who had just passed by.

Skulker was leading them. Danny scowled, and flew forward to intercept them, too angry to process whether or not confronting a group of ghosts that large was wise.

"Hey!" he shouted. "I thought you said you'd leave!"

"Chill, babypop!" shouted Ember. "You're a cold core, aren't you? We're here to get your body back."

That brought Danny up short. "Wait, really?"

The other ghosts, largely the rabble of the Wastes, the region of the Ghost Zone right outside the Fenton portal, gave a ragged sort of cheer.

"Yeah. And trash Plasmius's crap."

"Oh," said Danny, taken aback. "He has a ghost shield around his mansion, you know. A human shield, too, before you say I can get past that."

Poindexter floated up, over the mass of the crowd. "He can't keep them up all the time, can he?" he asked adjusting his glasses.

"No, I guess he can't. One sec." He pulled out his phone. "Hey, Tucker, can you find out where Vlad is right now?"

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"... and _these _are the cults that believe ghosts are divine messengers, there's a lot of variety in them, too," Cameron was saying, pointing eagerly at his computer screen.

"Excuse me," said Vlad. "But I don't see how this is relevant. At all. To anything."

"Oh, it's very important," said Collins, nodding sagely. "We got some of our best leads in this case from the cults."

Cameron beamed.

"I am myself quite familiar with the local cults," said Vlad. "If they become relevant, I'm sure I can come back to-"

"No, no, Mr. Mayor," said Paterson, "you won't understand without _context._"

"I-"

Several dozen ghosts suddenly entered through the roof. Everyone dove for cover.

"Hiya, grave robbers!" shouted a ghost with fiery blue hair. Ember McClain. "Or one grave robber in particular."

Actually, come to think of it, _she'd _masqueraded as a human for a while, too. Collins was going to have a crisis about how easily ghosts could blend in with humans at some point in the near future. Not today, but before the end of the week. He'd need to talk to a shrink. Preferably one who wasn't a ghost.

Oddly, the ghosts weren't attacking.

The sound of Mayor Masters clearing his throat issued from behind a sizable desk. "What are you here for?" he asked.

"You know, grave robber. We've got a bone to pick with you, until you give back what you took."

A few feet away from Collins, Jones inhaled deeply. He stood up. Collins resisted the urge to drag him back down.

"We don't have Phantom's body," said Jones, "if that's what you're here for."

"We know," said Ember. "That's what this's about. We know who took it, and we don't want to deal with Phantom while he's freaking out over some jerk having his body. So. We're giving an ultimatum-"

"Hey, guys," said Phantom's voice. "I found the shield deactivation button. It was in his car, next to his garage door opener."

"Oh, cool. You trash his car?"

"Nah, I let these little gremlin dudes do it. They looked like they were having fun."

"Whatever, babypop. Let's go get your body!"

As quickly as they came, the ghosts were gone.

Mayor Masters swore, and started for the door.

"Hold up," said Jones, putting a hand on the taller man's shoulder. "Where exactly do you think you're going?"

"To call some competent ghost hunters, since those menaces are clearly after my belongings!"

"Nuh uh," said Jones. "We've got some questions for you."

"Yeah," said Collins, "like why you seem to think that they're going to your house, when they could have been talking about anyone."

"Wow!" said Cameron, smiling. "That was exciting! I'm glad I was livestreaming, like you told me to, Paterson!"

"Well," said Vlad. He paused. "I need to call my lawyer."

"Better make sure they're a competent one," mocked Jones.

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Collins was surprised when Phantom materialized in the middle of the room with a long, dark plastic body bag in his arms. So were most people. Across the room, next to the coffee machine, one of his more caffeine-addicted coworkers do a spit take, and Jones burst out of his office in an avalanche of paperwork.

"I want a burial," said Phantom, finally. "A real one, this time."

Silence.

"I think I can arrange that," said Captain Jones.

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**I'm going to do one more, I think. Tomorrow.**


	56. Chapter 56

**I realized this morning after reading some comments that I never said what the 'it' Danny found in the car was, and that caused some confusion. It was the button to deactivate the shield around Vlad's house. Visiting the police with a dead body in the trunk is a little too bold, even for Vlad. I've edited the relevant line. **

**I blame writing at 11:30 at night for this error.**

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Interview with a Ghost (Epilogue: Diner)

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Unlike many of the eating establishments in Amity Park, Cecilia's Diner didn't cater to ghost-hunting tourists (To be technical, they didn't cater at all. It was a strictly sit-down establishment. They didn't even do take out.). Its clientele was strictly local. Pointedly so. The proprietress maintained a strict policy of banning all ghost hunting paraphernalia from the premises. A tourist could, theoretically, come in and order a sandwich, but if they gave any sign that they were there to hunt ghosts, they were summarily ejected.

There was a reason for this: Cecilia's Diner had the dubious distinction of sitting across the street from the cemetery. No one wanted ghost hunters watching them while burying a loved one, and Cecilia refused to add to what she considered to be a veritable plague.

The diner was not Danny's usual haunt. But it was useful, and gave him a good vantage point to watch the comings and goings in the cemetery. Of which there were many, even if the funeral had ended over an hour ago.

"Danny?"

"Hm?" said Danny, not taking his eyes off the window.

"Are you going to finish your fries?"

"Tucker!" scolded Jazz.

"What?" said Tucker.

Danny finally turned back to his friends. Jazz was giving Tucker a rather severe glare.

"It's fine," said Danny, "I don't want them."

Tucker reached out, but Jazz intercepted him. "Danny," she said, "you've hardly eaten all day." She nodded significantly at his plate full of fries and the sandwich he'd only taken two bites out of.

"I'm not hungry," he mumbled.

"You need your strength."

"I don't want to throw up all over myself when I do this," said Danny.

"You are doing it, then?" asked Sam. She hadn't eaten much, either. Then again, the diner didn't have a lot of vegetarian options. "Telling your parents, I mean."

"I don't really have any choice," said Danny. He picked up a french fry, and let it hang limply between his fingers. "I have to, don't I?"

"You do have a choice," said Sam. "I know you want to stay with your parents, and I like them too, but..." She drummed her fingers on the table. "I'm worried about how they'll react."

"I know," said Danny. He looked back out the window. "This is so weird. People are mourning for me, but I'm right here."

Sam and Tucker exchanged a glance. "Well, you get to do what you want," said Tucker. "It _is _your fune-" There was a meaty thump, and Tucker fell over, clutching at something beneath the table.

"I guess so," said Danny. He closed his eyes and sighed. He did feel calmer, now, with his body safely beneath the earth. Vlad might try to steal it again, six feet of soil and a couple inches of wood didn't do much to deter a person who could simply phase through them, but between the layer of Ghost-Zone-sourced paint Danny had stealthily applied to the inside of the coffin and the continuing threats and disdain of the ghostly community, Danny didn't think that he'd be terribly successful.

Danny would know if he was, anyway.

Tucker straightened out and pulled his PDA from his pocket. "When are those officers supposed to come get you again?"

"Detectives," corrected Danny. "Any minute now."

As if Danny's words had summoned them, the bell on the diner's door rang. They looked up to see the detectives walking in.

Jazz slid out of the booth, followed shortly by Danny.

"We'll call when it's over," said Jazz. Danny tried to smile and gave them a little wave, before turning to greet the detectives.

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The ride to Fentonworks in the detectives car was long and mostly silent. Mostly.

"Can you stop staring at me?" asked Danny.

"Sorry," said Paterson.

"Mhm," said Collins, who, as he was the one driving, had much less of an excuse for staring.

Danny sighed.

The car pulled up in front of Fentonworks.

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"During our investigation last week," started Collins, undertaking to explain why their children had been brought home by the police, "we came across certain facts that made us, and our captain, concerned for the safety of Jazz and Danny. Especially Danny." Of course, Collins was only doing the initial explanation. Danny was going to do the big reveal himself.

"What kind of facts?" asked Maddie.

"Facts about Phantom?" exclaimed Jack.

"Well, yes-" started Collins.

"That no good spook!" roared Jack, pulling a wicked-looking gun from... somewhere. "I'll teach him to mess with Fentons!"

"Whoa!" said Collins, leaping to his feet and holding out both his hands. He did not miss Paterson reflexively reaching for her own weapon. "No! There's no threatening going on! No threats! Let's put down the guns!"

"Don't worry, detective," said Maddie. "It's designed to only hurt ghosts."

Collins took a deep breath, and kept himself from glancing at Danny. "Why don't we continue this conversation once you've put all the ghost weapons away," he said.

Jack frowned. "Why?" he asked.

"I just think it'll make everyone involved more comfortable," said Collins. "Just as a general proposal."

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It took some time for Jack and Maddie to divest themselves of all their weaponry, and every second just made Danny more nervous. He wanted to just get this over with. He wanted it to be _done. _His mind whirred, trying to come up with the best way to start explaining, and, oh, he should have decided earlier. He should have written a script, or a letter, but he didn't, thinking that the right words would just come to him.

So when Jack and Maddie came back into the room, Danny blurted out, "It was my corpse."

Jack and Maddie stared at him. Jazz put her head in her hands.

"What?" asked Jack. "What was your corpse?"

"That they found, in the park." Danny waved his hand in Collins and Paterson's direction. "The body." They still looked bewildered. "I've been dead, sort of, for two years."

Maddie stepped forward. "Danny... I don't know what's going on, but you're just- You're confused. You have a pulse, Danny. You're alive." She turned on the detectives. "And you! You know he's alive. How could you-?"

"Mom," said Danny. "I'm not lying. Look." He held up his hand and slowly rendered it invisible. "When I turned the portal on," he said, "I was- The button was inside. I was inside. It turned on right on top of me."

"Oh, Danno," said Jack, eyes wide.

"The best I can figure is, ectoplasm replaced half of the mass in my body and the other half... just sort of..." He made a splitting gesture with his hands. "Fell out. I kind of freaked out and buried it in the park. I didn't know what else to do."

Maddie sat down heavily on the couch, one hand over her mouth.

"So, like, the parts of my body that are still there, they all work fine," said Danny. "So, you know, pulse and stuff. And the ectoplasm is pretty well integrated. It's, you know, the thing keeping me together. But I'm not one-hundred-percent dead. Just, like, half." He paused. "Also, I'm Phantom."

_"What?"_

Collins cleared his throat. "This being the case," he said, "we're going to have to ask you to make some changes to your home and behavior."

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A week later, Danny sat in the same booth at Cecilia's Diner, looking out the window again. The cemetery was much quieter this week, but he could still see people stopping by his grave.

How bizarre.

"Have you decided what you want yet, Danno?" asked Jack. Danny turned away from the window, to smile at his family.

"No," he said. "Not yet."

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**Aaaaaaand that's it for the Interview with a Ghost series.**


	57. Chapter 57

Sequel to Ooze, where Danny got frozen in a chunk of ice.

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Heat

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In the middle of the Vlad's lab sat a huge chunk of ghost ice. This was a problem, not least because Daniel was _inside _the ice. Vlad had no idea how to get him out. The ice wasn't melting on its own.

At least Vlad's instruments told him that Daniel was still _extant _within the ice. He hadn't inadvertently ended himself. Vlad couldn't imagine what he'd do if that were the case. He and Daniel might not get along- no, that was putting it too mildly, they were enemies- but Vlad didn't want to be the only one again, the only one to understand what it was like to one day be normal, and the next to be some kind of half-dead freak.

No. Don't think about that. Instead, focus on how Daniel was just as alive and dead now as he had been earlier today. Focus on solutions. Focus, even, on how he might turn the situation to his advantage, in the future. Daniel was sure to be grateful, wasn't he?

Vlad stopped pacing and collapsed in a chair. He felt calmer, now, and used his telekinesis to levitate a book to himself from a shelf across the room. He opened it to the section on ghost ice.

Ghost ice was notoriously difficult to melt and harder than diamond. Although it was cold, and ghosts who made it could make normal ice as well, ghost ice wasn't really ice at all. It was mostly made out of water, yes, but the ectoplasm changed its crystal structure significantly. What's more, there wasn't just _one _possible crystal structure; it depended on the desires of the ghost forming it.

It was complicated and frustrating, and even though Vlad had started researching it as soon as Danny had demonstrated the capability, he still didn't entirely understand it.

The one thing Vlad did know: ghostly fire _could _melt the stuff. If it was sufficiently hot. Sometimes. It was a tricky proposition.

Vlad didn't want to burn Daniel. Even if he was being annoying.

This would be so much easier if Daniel simply thawed himself. Vlad knew he could. At least, he should be able to. Perhaps if Vlad knew _why _he had frozen himself, he could do something about it, but he didn't, and there really wasn't any way for him to find out.

Curses.

He got up and picked up the ice again, taking it to his largest containment unit with a drain. He set the heat inside to high, a pleasant temperature for a hot cored ghost like himself. If fire was the only option, then fire was the only option. He'd just have to go slowly, stop well before he reached Daniel.

It was slow, exhausting work. Ice might have to be encouraged, but fire hated being held back, especially given the amount of power Vlad had to pour into it to make any progress.

He stopped periodically to check the time and Daniel's vitals. Daniel's vitals were fine, but he'd better have a truly remarkable excuse in reserve for his family. It had been hours since their fight.

At last, Vlad had reduced the block ice to thin shell around Daniel. Daniel was curled in on himself, the attitude of his arms indicating that he'd been protecting his head and neck. Something had frightened him. Perhaps he had been attacked by whatever had passed by Vlad in the ectoplasm sea?

Vlad pursed his lips. It wasn't like Daniel to be timid. Whatever it had been must have shaken him badly. Or perhaps it had been the attack on top of not being able to breathe. Vlad wasn't sure if Daniel knew how optional that particular bodily function was for the two of them.

Regardless.

Vlad knocked sharply on the ice, right next to Daniel's ear. The reaction was instantaneous. Daniel twitched and kicked wildly, and the ice shattered. He dragged himself to a corner of the containment chamber with an odd, swimming motion, and started retching, vomiting up a copious amount of water and ectoplasm. As soon as he was done, his body flashed with light and became human. He collapsed.

Both disgusted and worried, Vlad strode to Daniel's side. He touched Daniel's shoulder, and he flinched violently, twisting to stare up at Vlad with frightened but somehow vacant eyes.

"Daniel," said Vlad. Daniel's eyelids fluttered, but otherwise he didn't respond. Vlad reached out to touch him again, but this time, instead of flinching away, Daniel leaned into the touch, rubbing his cheek against his arm.

He slurred something that might have been interpreted as _warm. _

Vlad sighed and rolled his eyes, secretly relieved. "Yes, yes," he said, maneuvering himself behind Daniel and picking him up. "Let's get you warmed up, and then we can go back to fighting or whatnot."

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**Aargh... this was short... I'm afraid I'm starting to lose steam. **


	58. Chapter 58

Sequel to Mask.

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Family

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It was amusing, watching Daniel eat like this.

Vlad had decided to institute a tradition of family mealtimes, and had decanted Daniel from the containment unit about thirty minutes previously. Daniel had been sulky, at first, saying that Vlad should have given him more warning and attempting to fend off the wheelchair Vlad had procured for him. But his strength had been insufficient to the task, and, once Vlad had wheeled him into the other half of the basement, where he had created a luxurious but secret home for his children, he had fallen into a contented and obedient stupor once again.

An adjustment to the flow of his ectoplasm IV perked him up just enough to allow him to attempt to eat breakfast. Attempt. Poorly. He was obviously as ravenous as he was exhausted, but he was equally uncoordinated. He only got a forkful of pancakes to his mouth every third attempt at best.

"Father," said Danielle, tugging at his sleeve. She was, more often than not, the spokesperson for her siblings. "Is Danny alright?"

Vlad nodded, absently. "What he is doing is very difficult, my dear, but he will come to no lasting harm." Perhaps he should allow Daniel to eat separately, after this.

"He won't melt?"

"No, no, he's quite stable. You needn't worry about that. He is simply tired, and his mind is otherwise occupied. Imagine if you were trying to, say, set the table while reading four books at once. Your coordination might suffer, too, hm?"

His children nodded. "That makes sense," said Dmitri, adjusting his eye patch. "I guess we didn't think of it that way."

Vlad gave his son an indulgent smile. "You are young, Dmitri. You don't have to think of everything."

Dmitri nodded, and then said, wistfully, "I don't suppose we're still following the schedule?"

"I'm afraid not," said Vlad. "You, of course, can continue with the activities I planned, but Daniel won't be able to." Four of the five children at the table sighed. Daniel continued to struggle with his breakfast. "But you may be able to meet David soon. His stabilization has been progressing nicely."

This pronouncement was greeted with smiles and cheers. Damien reached over and hugged Dmitri. Daniel jumped and dropped his fork.

He made a very small, upset _fweh _sound and stared angrily at his plate.

Vlad regarded him with a sigh. While family mealtimes were good for his children, for their social skills, their stability, and for their bond with Daniel, they would not suffice for getting Daniel the nutrients he needed. True, they could be supplemented intravenously, or with a feeding tube, but Vlad didn't want to resort to that just yet.

Dustin reached over to Daniel's plate and began to cut up Daniel's pancakes. He speared some on the end of the fork and offered them to Daniel, who took them with a kind of blurred dignity. Vlad had to cover his mouth. It wouldn't do to laugh at Daniel being hand-fed like a small child. Yet.

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Danny was wheeled out of the underground dining room and his brain sluggishly began to work again. "Are they okay?" he asked.

"Hmm?" said Vlad.

"Being apart."

"For now. A few hours with you a day should keep them from deteriorating further. Once David has reached their level of stability, you will be able to spend much more time with them." Vlad ruffled Danny's hair and Danny hummed. Then he realized how _wrong _that was and scowled.

Vlad walked over to the tube Danny had been in for the last several hours and started adjusting things.

Danny shifted uncomfortably in the chair; he was still too woozy to try to walk. "Vlad?"

"Yes? What?"

"Do we- Can we do something different? Not that."

"Oh?" Vlad turned to face him. "I would have thought that you would have wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. This is the fastest way."

Danny shrugged. He didn't really want to explain to Vlad how unnerving being in the tube had been.

Vlad drummed his fingers on the side of the tube and contemplated Danny. "There are a few other things we could try."

Danny nodded. "Good. Right. Before we start, though, um, I don't suppose you have a bathroom down here?"

.

"Do I have to be strapped down?" asked Danny.

"Daniel," said Vlad, "you agreed to cooperate."

"Yes, with stabilizing Ellie, Dustin, Dmitri, Damien, and David," said Danny. "Not with letting you tie me up so you can bully me into doing things." Never mind that he wouldn't be able to resist whatever Vlad wanted from him, anyway. He was too weak.

"I don't want you to damage yourself by falling off the table, hitting yourself during a seizure, or falling under the ectoplasm and doing your best impression of drowning," said Vlad. "You can't _actually _drown, of course, but the fact remains that these are all experimental procedures."

Danny shuddered at the word experiment. He'd been half-ghost for long enough for that word to sink into his subconscious and give him nightmares. "But are they _necessary?_"

"I suppose not," admitted Vlad. He approached Danny with two quick strides and knelt in front of him. He held up an object that looked like a thick bolt with a thick cable running from one end. "This needs to make contact with your core."

"You're joking."

"No. The idea is to strengthen and more directly transmit your ectosignature."

Danny bit his lip. He knew exactly how something touching your core felt, thanks to _Dan. _"Maybe you had better strap me down."

.

They fell into a sort of routine. For most of the day and night, Danny would soak in an ectoplasm bath, connected to David. At regular intervals Vlad would wake him up, convince him to exercise a small amount, and then bring him to the other side of the basement, where the other clones lived.

At one point, Vlad had handed Danny a phone and he'd had a very confused conversation with his sister. He'd tried to communicate what was happening to her, and that she should call Sam and Tucker, but he'd just finished a disorienting stabilization session, and he wasn't sure how clear he'd been.

Danny didn't know if Vlad had kept up his other promise, to keep Amity Park safe, but, honestly, most of the time he was too tired to even care. Which was sort of disturbing in the moments he _did _have energy to care.

Also, whenever he was awake he was hungry. Ravenous. It was weird. His food intake had increased after the accident, but he knew he had never eaten this much every day before. But he wasn't gaining weight. He was losing it.

Danny woke up to Vlad undoing his restraints. "Izzit time t'eat?" he asked.

"Soon," said Vlad. "David is ready."

"Oh," said Danny, with vague interest. He sat up and leaned on the side of the tub he was in. Ectoplasm lapped around his thighs.

Slowly, Vlad decanted David from the tube, first draining away the ectoplasm and then rinsing David off with a stream of water from the top of the tube. He opened the tube up, and began to detach him from the various wires and leads. As he did so, David began to wake, stirring and humming. Finally, after Vlad disconnected the last wire, David opened his eyes and smiled. Danny's lips mirrored the motion.

He was happy. David was family, clone or not.

.

The next meal was more confusing than usual. His eyes were having trouble focusing, and the conversation around him was nothing more than a smear of noise. Everyone was happy, though, so that was good.

To Danny's dull surprise, Vlad did not take him back out to the lab, but instead to a different room. This was different. And upsetting. He frowned. This room was bright colors and soft shapes. Vlad took him out of the wheelchair and set him on the floor.

Again, this was different. Why was it different? He couldn't think. He didn't like this.

Then all his siblings came close, and he found himself in the middle of a cuddle pile. Oh! This was nice. Danny closed his eyes and let himself relax the rest of the way.

.

"Now, children," said Vlad, after he was quite certain both that his children would be gentle with Daniel and that Daniel was firmly asleep, "I will be leaving Daniel with you during the day, but I need you to follow certain rules. First, Daniel must stay below ground. Second, at least three of you must stay with Daniel at all times." He rather suspected that none of them would let Daniel leave their sight, at least for the near future, but that was the number he had calculated would keep Daniel in a docile state. "Thirdly, if any of the alarms go off, you must fetch me at once. Finally, and this is very important, when he is awake, I want you to try to talk him into staying with us. You remember those videos I showed you, yes?"

David looked confused, but all the others nodded.

"They were so _mean _to him," said Dustin.

"They shot at him!" added Ellie.

"You're not like that at all, Father," said Damien. "I can't believe those people are his parents!"

Vlad smiled. "David, I will show you the videos at a later time. For now, get to know your siblings."

David nodded vigorously. He hadn't quite gotten the hang of talking, yet.

Vlad left for the lab, humming. Yes, his little family was shaping up nicely. If he _could _get Daniel to join it with some subliminal messaging and the well-meaning pressure of the clones, well, that would just be icing on the cake, wouldn't it?


	59. Chapter 59

**Yay! I made it to the end! This is a shorter, cool-down piece.**

.

.

.

Free

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Danny tipped his head back and cackled. With a flourish, he gripped the body of the dog, and bounced it all the way to the space labeled 'free parking.' Having settled the piece, he edged the paper money out from beneath it.

"Ugh," said Jazz. "Why do we even _use _that house rule?"

"Yeah," said Ellie from across the table, eyes narrowed. "It doesn't make sense. Why would landing on free parking give you free money?"

"It's like a windfall," said Danny. "Like you won the lottery or something."

"But that's on the chance cards," objected Ellie. "You don't need a house rule for that."

"No, no," said Dan, "you're both wrong. You've never heard the story of the parking attendant."

Briefly, Danny wondered if he should cut Dan off before he recounted something gruesome, but shook his head. The weekly 'family game night' and Dan's temporary release from the thermos were contingent on his good behavior, which included not scaring Ellie for life. Besides, if he did decide to misbehave, Clockwork would take care of it.

Instead, Danny ostentatiously counted his winnings.

Jazz glared at him.

"You see," said Dan, "once there was this parking lot, and in the parking lot, there was a parking attendant. People paid the attendant a fee to park in the lot, and he kept an eye on their cars. One day, after years, he stopped showing up. The people who parked there called the police, and they called the company who owned the lot, but it turned out there was no parking attendant. The lot was a free lot. Free parking."

Ellie's eyebrows furrowed. "So he was a ghost."

"No," said Dan, "he was a con artist. He _pretended _to be the attendant, and took people's money."

"But he showed up every day and looked after their cars?"

"Yeah, so?"

Ellie frowned at Dan across the table. "That doesn't sound like much of a con."

Dan sighed, his hair wavering with the motion, and picked up the dice. "That isn't why you have the house rule, though."

"Then why?" asked Ellie.

"It's because Danny here," Dan smiled wickedly, and Danny felt his blood run cold, "knows how to roll the dice to get the number he wants to come up every time." Dan rolled the dice and sighed again. "Unfortunately, I seem to have lost the knack."

Ellie turned to Danny as Jazz's eyes got progressively wider. Danny knew she was sorting through every time she'd lost a board game to Danny because he'd gotten 'lucky' with the dice.

"Can you even do that?" asked Ellie.

"Well," said Danny, "does it really _matter_ if I can or can't?"

"Children," said Clockwork.

"You little cheater!" yelled Jazz, springing from her seat and across the table. This was literal, as gravity in the Ghost Zone was more of a suggestion than a hard fact.

"Hey, no, time out!" said Danny, also jumping up. "You're supposed to be the responsible one! Stop! Clockwork! Time out! Help! I wasn't cheating! It's a skill! A skill!"

Dan chortled and, now that Jazz was no longer guarding it, started sneaking money from the 'bank.'

"Are you supposed to do that?" asked Ellie.

"Why not?" asked Dan. "That's how the cheese head got his first million."

"I think that's enough for today," said Clockwork. He tapped his staff on the ground sending the half ghosts, ghost, and human back to where they had been before he had summoned them. Next week, he would select something less competitive, and preferably without any dice.


End file.
